S 635 
Z9 
3837 
>py 1 



PLAYS EXCHANGED. 



AhER'5 Edition 

of PL7\Y3 



THE TRUSTEE 



F 




COPYRIGHT, 1fW9. BY V/ALTER H. BAKER & CO. 



JUST PUBLISHED. 



A Box 9F AeNKEYS. 

A PARLOR FARCE IN TWO ACTS. 

By GRACE L. FURNISS, 

[Reprinted from Harpers' Bazar, by kind permission of Messrs. Harper and Bros.] 

T\fo male and three female characters. Scene> an easy interior, the 
same for both acts ; costumes, modern. This clever little play of modern 
society, by the author of " A Veneered Savage," and other popular 
pieces, is strong in interest, brilliant in dialogue, sprightly and graceful 
in movement. Under the title of " American Fascination" it was given 
several performances last season by the Criterion Dramatic Club, of 
Boston, with eminent success. It can be successfully played in a parlor 
Avithout scenery, and is in all respects an admirable successor to Miss 
Tiffany's popular 

" RICE PUDDING." 

Price, 15 cents. 



JHE Q OUNTRY g CHOOL 

AN ENTERTAINMENT IN TWO SCENES. 

By M. R. ORNE. 

For any number of characters, male or female, either or both, many or few, big or 
little. Scenery, simple ; costumes, those of cur grandfather's days; time in playing, 
abont forty minutes. The sketch carries the spectator back to his school-boy days in the 
Utile red school-house, and is sure to be very popular. 

Price, . . . . . IR cents. 

SYNOPSIS: 

SCENE I. Introductory. Going to school. Hookin' apples and hookin' Jack. Jokes 
and jollity, 

SCENE II. The old " deestrick skule " house. The scholars assemble. Calling the 
roll. Excuses. Thenewboys — " Julius Call and Killious Call." The stuttering 
boy. The infant class. " This is a warm doughnut ; tread on it." The arithmetic 
class. "Why does an elephant have a trunk?" A history lesson. One reason why 
George Washington's birthday is celebrated. A visitor. Somebody's **ma." A 
very delicate child. Some fun about pickles. A visit from the school convmittee. 
A school examination in " history, filoserpy, quotations, flirtations, an' kerdrilles." 
Head to foot. A very bad spell. Blackboard exercises. A motion song. A crush 
hat. More fun. A boy's composition on *' boys." 



Walter H. Baker & Co., 23 Winter St., Boston. 



THE TRUSTEE 



^ Plag in jFour ^cts 



BY 



/ 



WILLIAM MAYNADIER BROWNE 

AUTHOR OF "a FOOL FOR LUCK " "BACHELOR'S HALL" ETC, 



As originally performed by '■'The Players," of West Ncwtofi-, 
Mass., at City Hall, November 24, i8go 



3 ? 6 ^ ^^^ 



BOSTON 



1892 



O" 



TS43r 

CHARACTERS. 'Z^^^ I 

I 

{ As originally cast by " The Players.") 

DANiEt. Vane, a man of fifty, totally blind . . . .-Mr. John A. Conkey. 

John Allston, Me trustee, conieinporary and old 

friend of Vane Mr. Cornelius Walker. 

Edward Elliot, a retired lawyer, old friend of 

both Vane a?nt Allston Mr. Morton. E. Cohb. 

Doctor Phaco^-K, a lo/uitry doctor Mr. T. E. Stutson. 

Philip liROUGHTON, younger brother of Mrs. 

Allston Mr. Edw. W. Spurr. 

Y.k•H('.\^o•^ {?i.n 2X\T^^), a doubtful character .... Mr. JA.*;. Walker, Jr. 

Jerkmiah Marsh, Langdon's assistant, or so- 
called secretary Mr. Edw. Dkwson. 

Judge VMTT\r.o'sii,trial justice of the town . . . Mr. Edw. C. Buruai.e. 

Conn O'Wara, constable Mr. B. P. Cheney, Jr. 

Hv^r, a detective Mr. Chas. T. Davis. 

Mrs. Allston, the trustee's wife Mrs. Wm. T. Farley. 

Barbara Vane, the trustee's ward and Vane's 

niece Miss EbiTH M. Farley. 

Miss Allsion, the trustee's sister .... Miss Francis A. Raymond. 

Mrs. V)i\cocK, the doctor's wife .... Miss Gkorcian.\ M. Harris. 

SuzETTE Ecuer, maidservant in the trustee's 

house Mrs. Walter H. Stearns. 

The scene is laid in a small country town not far from New York City. 



Act I. — Drawing-room in the trustee's house. 
Act II. — The trustee's office in the village. 
Act III. — Same as Act I. 

Act IV. — The office of the trial justice of the town. 



Time. — The Present. 




Copyright, 1S9T, tiy Walter H. Baker & Co. 
All Rights Reserved. 

NoTirE. — The publishers of " Tlie Trustee " reserve to themselves all right of perform- 
ing the play in any p.irt of the United .States. This publication is for the benefit of such 
managers or actors as may have been duly authorized by the author or his agents to pro- 
duce the drama. Al! other persons are herely notified that any production of this play 
withniit due authority will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. 

■J'l) Amateuks. — The above notice docs not apply to amateur dramatic clubs, which 
may perfciCi the drama without nprmission. 



T^<P92-0087i5 



THE TRUSTEE. 



Scene. — Drawing-rootn hi the Trustee'' s hotise. Wide entrance 
at back, c, showing hall behind, portieres either side of C. Door 
at R., leading to conservatory, and at L., leading to another 
room. The' room comfortably and plentifully furnished. A 
large writing-table at K., toward the front. 

{Enter Suzette, cautiously, at c. After looking about the stage, 
she returns toC, and beckons to without.) 

{Enter Marsh c.) 

Suzette {as he ejiters). Mistare Langdon ees not here, Mistare 
Cherry. You see. I told you so. He may be in ze conservatoire. 

Marsh. Well, step in there, there's a good girl, and tell him 
Mr. Marsh wants to see him for a minute. 

Suzette. Non, non, Mistare Cherry. Not yet. As Doctaire 
Peacock say, " you aire going too fast." Two sings first you must 
tell to me. 

Marsh. Don't bother me now. I'm in a hurry. 

Suzette {folding her arms). But I, Mistare Cherry, haf of 
time all zat I need. 

Marsh. That's all right, Suzette ; but when we're such old 
friends — 

Suzette. Ha! Zat ees juste eet ! I haf gr-r-eat interest in 
my old friend Mistare Cherry, and zerefore I ask. Who eez zis 
Langdon ? Zat ees one question. 

Marsh. He is a — well — he's an engraver. 

Suzette. So! {IVith meaning.) Of zee green goods, ees eet? 

Marsh {nodding assent). And now I suppose you want to 
know what we are doing here. 

Suzette. Not at all, saire. You do me wrong. I haf reformed. 
I vish to know — how ees eet you say that — vere do I come in, 
eef I know nossing? Zat ees two question. 

Marsh {after a momenfs reflection). One thousand dollars for 
you if you say nothing. 

Suzette. One souzand dollaire ! Bien. {Suddenly.) But 
not zose Mistare Langdon make, eh ? (Marsh shakes his head.) 
You may on me depend. {Going toward door R.) Mistare 

3 



4 THE TRUSTEE. 

Langdon shall know zat Mistare — ha — ha — ha — Mar-r-sh vish 
to see him. 

{Exit, door R.) 

Marsh. She comes high, but we must have her. She's known 
me too long for me to take any risks with her. {Looking about the 
room.) Nice place this ; belter than the doctor's house. No fault 
to find with the doctor, though. He makes me and — ahem — Mr. 
Langdon very comfortable during our little visit. 

(£"«/^/- Langdox and Suzette r. Suzette hangs about for a 
moment, but upon Langdox's watching her, she shrugs her 
shoulders and exit c.) 

Langdon. Well, what do you want of me ? 

Marsh. Well, I'll tell you what I want of you, Tom Drake. 
{\^\v,iiV>o^ raises his fists threateningly.) Oh, drop that! I can 
do that too. 

Langdon {quieting down). All right, but don't call me that, 
here. 

Marsh. Excuse 7ne, Mr. Langdon. But I have worked in the 
dark as long as I'm going to. 

Langdon. You said you'd let me run the thing. 

Marsh. And you said you wanted me to come up here and 
help you place sixty thousand of the queer. Now, I know you've 
made all the arrangements to buy tliis chemical mill of Allston's, 
and I know you intend to pay for it with the same old stuff, but 
what I don't know is this, — how do you expect to sell the mill 
again and get good money for it, before the bank finds out that the 
bills you paid for it are queer ? That's wliat I want to know. 

Langdon. The bank will never find out. 

Marsh. You"re crazy. Tiiey'd know 'em in a minute. 

Langdon. The bank will never see them. 

Marsh. You mean — 

Langdon. I mean we get them back again. Allston will have 
to put them in the safe in his office in the village, because there's 
no bank here. Tiiere's nobody in his ofiice at night except Vane, 
this blind man. It won't be hard to take care of him, and he can't 
see who does the job. We crack the safe, take the bills, back to 
bed at the doctor's, and who is going to suspect Mr. Langdon, the 
buyer of the property? Now, am I crazy .'' 

Marsh {admiringly). Not you, Tom, I swear! {Suddenly.) 
But wait! Those blind fellows can feel what they can't see ! 

Langdon. That's so. 

Marsh. I have it. You must wear that coat of Allston's, the 
one trimmed witli fur, and if Vane feels that, it will throw him way 
off the scent. Suzette will fix that for us. - ■ 

Langdon. How do you know she will ? 

Marsh. Old partner of mine — reformed. 



THE TRUSTEE, 5 

Langdon. Is she safe ? 

Marsh. Yes. I've fixed her. 

Langdon. Hark ! Some one's coming. Go. 

{Exit Marsh, quickly, L.) 

(Langdon takes position against hack, by door c. at R. Enter Mrs. 
Allston and Philip c.) 

Mrs. Allston {exxitedlv, as they enter). No, Philip. {Catch- 
in^ him by the hand and brijtging him down, neither seeing 
Langdon.) I am in awful trouble, and I want you to help me. 

Philip {putting his arm around her). Dora ! my sister ! You 
may rely upon me. Tell me all about it. 

(Mrs. Allston hesitates a moment as if to recover her senses. 
While she hesitates, Langdon quietly conceals himself behind 
portiere of door c.) 

Mrs. Allston. Let me sit down. I feel faint. 

Philip {helping her to chair R.). There, dear. Take your 
time, and depend'upon it, I will help you if it's a possible thing. 

Mrs. Allston {agitated). Just a week ago I received a letter 
— an anonymous letter — Oh, I hate to tell you, Philip. It re- 
ferred to that wretched, horrible time when I — I thought I was 

married to — , . / „ • ■ 

Philip Hush, Dora! Don't speak his name. {Kising ex- 
citedly, with clinched hands.) If he hadn't died by God's will, I 

would have — „ • -, 

Mrs. Allston. PhiHp ! Philip! What are you saying ? 

Philip Well, never mind, dear. That is past. Go on. 

Mrs. Allston. This letter — I cannot forget one word of it — 
I must tell you all it said. {Rising and coming close to him.) I 
can see it now. " It is reasonable to suppose that you would be 
unwillincr to have Mr. Allston made aware of the fact that your first 
husband had another wife living when he married you. and that, in 
addition to this, he was a professional bank thiet. To prevent 
Mr Allston's being informed of your history, it is only neces- 
sary to send a oersonal to the New York Herald, stating where 
T D. can call and receive $5,000. In case you are unable to raise 
this amount, the matter can be settled by your giving some slight 
information in regard to Mr. Allston's safe to one of your former 
husband's old friends." That was the letter, word for word. 

Philip. Miserable hound ! What did you do ? 
Mrs. Allstom. I did nothing, intending to tell John everything, 
aive him the letter, and let him put the whole matter in the hands 
Sf the police ; but that very evening he heard that there was a 
rumor that the mine was flooded, and he would lose everything. 
He was so worried, Phil, 1 hadn't the heart to tell him then. I 
have waited since, hoping he might get better news, and — 



6 THE TRUSTEE. 

Philip. Dora, dear, you ought to have told Mr. Allston your 
history long ago. 

Mrs. Allston. I did try to, Philip, when he asked me to be 
his wife. I would have told him how I had myself and my little 
brother to support, — for you were little then, Pliil, — 1 would have 
told him how 1 was so poor 1 did not know what would become of 
us ; how that man offered us a comfortable home ; how froin the 
wife he had deserted I learned that I was not a wife, that he was a 
wretched criminal ; and I would iiave told my husband, my dear 
John, how that very day we fled from that horrible house and canu 
to this village to live. All this I would have told my husband, 
tried io tell him before I became his wife, but he wouldn't listen; 
said that it was enough for him to know that my past had been 
unhappy, and to have the privilege of making me forget it in his 
love. 

Philip. That was like him, Dora. 

Mrs. Allston. But I haven't told you the worst. I have 
searched everywhere, and I cannot find the letter. 

Philip. Do you think it has been stolen ? 

Mrs. Allston. No, no. I am certain John has taken it by 
mistake, with some papers about Barbara's estate. This morning 
I was reading the letter again, and laid it on the desk for a minute 
while I was out of the room, and when I came back John was there 
tying up his papers. He lias not read the letter. I am sure, but 
to-morrow, when he has to use the papers, he will find it. 

Philip. Take my advice, and tell him all about it. 

Mrs. Allston {tuith dis/n'ss). I can't Philip. I can't now. 
Then, it would have been easier, but now that I love him so, I 
cannot give him pain — now, when he is in so much trouble. 

Philip. Then how can I help you ? 

Mrs. Allston. Go to the office, and get the letter back for me 
from the safe. Only Mr. Vane will be there, and you can make 
some explanation to him. 

Philip. But the safe ? How can I unlock the safe ? 

Mrs. Allston {eagerly). I can tell you that. John showed 
me how to do it. {Hurriedly.) The letters are D-O-R-A, my 
name. You turn the dial first to D, then back, all the way round 
three times, then — 

Philip {inlerrnptiitg). You'd better write it, dear. I may 
forget. 

Mrs. Allston {seatiiig herself at table and ivriting hurriedly). 
Philip, dear, it is so good of you. I can never thank you enough 
{Rising and giving hint the paper. ) 

Philip. Never mind about that, Dora. I wilT do it, if you 
wish. I suppose any time this evening will do ? 

Mrs. k\A.^i:o^ {eagerly). Yes, yes. {Starting to leave the room.) 

Philip {folio-wing and stopping her). Tiiink again, Dora, 
Hadn't you better take my advice? 

Mhs. Allston. No, no,' no, — please ! {Exeunt c.) 



THE TRUSTEE. J 

Langdon {coming out caiitioiisly from behind portiere) . I was 
afraid my letter wouldn't work, but after all, Mrs. Allston (laugh- 
ing), you have answered it unawares. Dora! That's all I need to 
know. Ha ! {Looking toward door L.) Here comes the trustee. 
Now for the purchase. Ha, ha! This is a beautiful idea of mine, 
if it only works. 

{Enter Mr. Allston l. He carries in his hands numerous 
papers, books, accounts, etc., and goes to the table at r.) 

Allston {looking over papers). Well, Mr. Langdon, I think I 
have everything here, and we may as well finish the business, since 
you are satisfied to accept my inventory of the machinery and tools 
and fixtures. 

Langdon. . Perfectly satisfied, Mr. Allston. In fact, I am quite 
ready to pass the papers now, and complete the purchase. My 
secretary has everything that I need for the purpose. 

Allston. Very well, sir, if you say so. It's delightful to settle 
a matter of this sort with so little — in fact, no disagreement. I 
must say, Mr. Langdon, you are an ideal purchaser. 

Langdon. Thank you. I always try to do everything as 
smoothly as possible. Besides, the property is so exactly suited 
to my wants, that I am only too glad to get it at your price. 

Allston {as he arranges papers). Well, it's only one more 
good thing for which I have to thank my old friend. Doctor Pea- 
cock. I'm sure /could never have found so good a customer for 
my ward's property. Have you known Dr. Peacock long, Mr. 
Langdon ? 

Langdon. Oh, no 1 In fact, 'twas only the other day I intro- 
duced myself to him in New York, in order to discuss with him a 
matter of chemistry, and one thing led to another, until I happened 
to mention that I wanted to buy a piece of manufacturing property 
in some small town, where I could conduct some important scien- 
tific experiments, and the doctor insisted upon my coming here to 
look at this, and I find it suits me exactly. 

{Enter Elliot c.) 

Allston. Ah, Ned! You're just in time to witness my signa- 
ture. This is Mr. Langdon. ( Zi? Langdon.) My very old friend, 
Mr. Elliot. {To Elliot.) Mr. Langdon has decided to buy Bar- 
bara's factory, Ned, and we are just about to sign the papers. 

Elliot. Well, John, my boy, I'm glad to hear it. {To Lang- 
don.) My friend Allston must regard you as something akin to a 
ministering angel, sir. 

Allston. Yes. indeed. After fifteen-years' management of the 
business for my ward, I am only too glad to dispose of it to her 
advantage — and to my relief. But that reminds me. With your 
permission, Mr. Langdon, I will send for Miss Vane, and explain 
to her what I am about to do with her property. {Rings.') 



O THE TRUSTEE. 

Langdon. Certainly. 

Allston. She has just come of age to-day, and I have some 
other papers here that need her signature, and I can clean up the 
whole thing now. 

{Enter Suzette c.) 

SuzETTE. Deed you r-ring, Mr. AUstone ? 
Allston. Be good enough to ask Miss Vane to come here for 
a minute. 

(Suzette ^jw/c.) 

Allston {putting his ha7id ofi Elliot's shoulder). It's good 
to have you with us again, old man, if only for a flying visit. 

Elliot. Couldn't let my little friend Barbara's twenty-first 
birthday go by without juy being here, you know. 
"Allston. That's right. (Tc" Langdon.) You see, Mr. Lang- 
don, Mr. Elliot is a great admirer of my ward. 

Langdon. And with good reason, I've no doubt. 

El;:.iot. Ah, you may well say so, sir! If I were a younger 
man, and hadn't vowed to be a bachelor all my life, I'd — 

{Enter Barbara c.) 

Barbara. You'd be simply perfect, Mr. Elliot. 

Elliot {going to meet her with both hatids extended). Thank 
you, my dear. {Holding her by the hands.) Well, well, well ! 
How time does fly, to be sure ! Twenty-one to-day, I declare ! 
Ahem ! Too old for the usual custom, my dear? Eh.? 

Barbara {laughi?ig). Pm not, if you mean me. 

Elliot {kissing her). There, you minx, neither am I. 

Allston {from position by the writing-table). Now, Ned, let 
that girl alone. Barbara, dear, this is Mr. Langdon. {They bow.) 
And now come and sit here {placing chair for her by the table), and 
listen to me carefully, for I intend to tell you all about your own 
affairs. I want you to understand all about them. 

(Elliot has seated himself with a book, in an easy-chair at l.) 

Barbara. Very well, Uncle John, I'll listen, but I won't prom- 
ise to understand one word of it. ^ 

Elliot {fro)n chair). That's right, my dear, stick to that! 

Allston. When your fatlier, who was my dearest friend — 

Elliot {from chair). And mine. 

Allston. Yes, and Elliot's. When your father died, fifteen 
years ago, he left all his money invested in the factory here, and in 
his will bequeathed the entire property to you as his heir, and 
named me as trustee to take charge of the business of the factory. 
To-day you are twenty-one, and I have here all the accounts and 



THE TRUSTEE. 9 

papers to present to the court to show how I have managed this 
property. 

Barbara. But, Uncle John, I don't want the factory. What in 
the world can /do with a factory? 

Allston. Wait a minute, my dear. That's just what I am 
coming to. Your father foresaw this difficulty, and by a clause in 
the will directs me to sell the property at whatever time during the 
year before or the year after your twenty-first birthday I may con- 
sider most advantageous for you. When the property first came 
into my hands, it was appraised at fifteen thousand dollars. To- 
day, by the books, it is worth sixty thousand dollars. 

Barbara. Why, Uncle John, how could you do that ? 

Allston. Never mind, my dear. It's all shown in these 
papers. During the past year I have been unable to find any one 
to buy the property at what I considered a fair price ; but to-day 
Mr. Langdon has offered me sixty thousand dollars, and 1 have sold 
the property to him. That is all that it is necessary for you to 
know for the present ; and now I want you to write your name two 
or three times, and then I won't bother you any longer. 

{Enter Philip c.) 

Philip {as he enters). Oh, here you are ! 

Elliot {still seated). Yes, I am here, my boy. {Holding out 
his hand.) How do you do .'' 

Philip {coming to him). Hello, Mr. Elliot. I didn't \inovf yoti 
were here. 

Elliot {laughing) . Then it wasn't I you were looking for. Eh ? 
Well, well, I don't blame you. If I were your age, I suppose I 
should run after her myself. 

{During the foregoing, Allston, Langdon, and Barbara have 
been occupied with the papers at the table.) 

Allston {placing a paper before Barbara) . Now sign here, 
dear. There! That's all. 

Barbara {rising). I had no idea it was so easy to sell a factory. 

Allstom {to Elliot). Now, Ned ! If you will, please ? (Elliot 
rises and goes to table, and siojis as ivitness, etc.) 

Barbara {to Philip, excitedly). O Philip, Uncle John has sold 
the factory ! 

Philip. Yes, I supposed he would. Come and take a walk. 

Bar]5ARA {witJi pretended importajice). You forget that I have 
a great deal of business to attend to. 

Philip. Why, they don't need/^/^ any longer. 

Barbar.a. {bridling). How do you know, sir? My presence 
here has been greatly needed. 

Philip. And your presence out there {pointing off) will be 
greatly appreciated. 

Barbara. But will it be needed, too ? 

Philip. Imperatively ! 



10 THE TRUSTEE. 

Barbara. Then I suppose I really oui;ht to go. {Starting 
toivard door c. with Philip.) 

Elliot {calling after them). Don't wait for me. I'll find you 
later. 

Philip {as he goes out). If you can ! 

{Exit c. ivitJi Barbara. Elliot shakes his fist at him, laughing 
good-)iaturedly .^ 

Laxgdon {^who has been looking over papers with Allston). 
Now all that you need is sixty thousand dollars from me. I sent my 
secretary for it, and he should be here now. Excuse me one mo- 
ment. I will go and find him. {Exit c.) 

Elliot. Jack, old man, I got your letter about the mine, and 
went to see your bankers, as you asked me to do. {Putting his 
hand on Allston's shoulder.) 1 wish I had some encouraging 
news for you. 

Allston. Is the rumor true, then ? Is the mine flooded ? 

Elliot. They say they are not entirely sure of it yet, but that 
it looks like it. Was all your money in it, John ? 

Allston. Every dollar, — except wliat's in this house. 

Elliot. Too bad, too bad ! 

Allston. Better news may come later. I must at least seem 
to be in good spirits on Barbara's birthday. Thank Heaven her 
property is not affected ! 

. {Enter Langdon c, with Marsh carrying hand-bag.) 

Langdon {taking bag from Marsh, as he conies dowji). I think 
this will sui)plv all that is necessary. {Placing hand-bag on the 
table.) I have here, Mr. Allston, all that is needed to complete 
what has been to me, I assure voii, a very pleasant transaction. 
( Taking several packages of bills from the hand-bag. Marsh looking 
on with evident uneasiness.) There ! I think you will find that 
that is the right amount. 

Allston {taking up a package from the table). But you surely 
do not expect to ])ay with these? 

Langdon {excitedly and nervously). Why — yes. Why not? 
They're — er all right, aren't they? 

Marsh {aside to Langdon). Keep cool. Keep cool. 

Allston. Certainly — but I had supposed — 

Elliot. It's rather unusual to pay such an amount in bills. 

Langdon {reassured). Well, perhaps it is ; but, you see, being 
a stranger to you, I hardly liked to offer my check in payment. 
{Aside to Maksh.) Was that cool? 

Allston. Oh, well, of course I can't object, Mr. Langdon. 
The only reason 1 remarked upon the manner of payment is because, 
in a small town like this we have no banking facilities, and I shall 
be obliged to take care of all this money until I can send it to the 
city. 

Langdon {earnestly). Haven't you a safe — at your office ? 



THE TRUSTEE. tl 

Allston. Yes, I have a safe there, but hardly burglar proof. 

Elliot. Oh, there'll be no danger for one night, Jack. Not a 
particle. Safe as a church — safer ! 

Allston. Yes, you're right. No one but ourselves will know 
that it's in the safe. Besides, Vane will be there. Poor Vane ! 
(Langdox and Marsh exchange glances.) 

{Exit Marsh c.) 

Allston {io Langdon). You must know, Mr. Langdon, that 
this Mr. Vane of whom we are speaking is a very old and dear 
friend of Mr. Elliot's and mine, and is my ward's uncle ; for although 
Barbara calls me Uncle John, I am no relation to her. Well, some 
years ago Mr. Vane was one of the victims of a railroad accident, 
and entirely lost his sight, and from that time he has lived alone 
by himself, until a month ago, when we persuaded him to come to 
us, so as to be near Barbara. He came, but insists upon sleeping 
in a room adjoining my office, because, as he says, he can find his 
way about more easily there. 

Langdon. And he is there all alone at night, then ? 

Allston. Yes, poor fellow ! All alone. He will have it so. 
What is now my office, he used as his room when he lived with us 
years ago, and I suppose the old associations of it attract him. 

Elliot. Poor, poor Vane ! I can remember him when he was 
young, handsome, active — everything to look forward to. And now, 
all is dark to him. 

{Enter Miss Allston ^«rt^ Vane c, she guiding him. As they 
enter, Elliot crosses to l., and stands apart.') 

Allston {as Miss A. and Vane come down) . Ah , Vane ! Once 
in a while you let us enjoy the pleasure of having you in the house. 
This is Mr. Langdon. 

Vane {bowing, and not seeing Langdon's outstretched hand, 
turns toward Elliot). Who else is here ? 

Elliot. See if you can guess ? {Going to him, and taking his 
right hand.) 

(Miss Allston is ettgagittg Langdon in cotiversation near the tabic 
and he does not notice the ensuing.) 

Vane {his face lightening). Elliot ! Is it you, old friend .^ I 
know the voice — and the hand. {Holding up slightly Elliot's 
right hafid, which he has retained in his, and resting his left hand 
upon Elliot's shoulder.) 

Elliot {warmly). My dear old Vane! I would lose it gladly, 

jf— 

Yan'E {interrupting). Hush! Don't say that. Hands are pre- 
cious things. {Releasing Elliot's hand, and holding both his own 
before him.) I see with these ! 

Miss Allston {crossing to Vane). Now, Mr. Vane, I want 
you to have a comfortable seat. {Gently guiding him to arm-chair 



12 THE TRUSTEE. 

at L., and in little ways caring for his comfort.') I shall be near 
you. ^ 

Vane {seated). You are always so kind, so good to me. Do 
you pity me ? 

Miss Allston. With all my heart. 

Vane {aside). Pity ! I wish it were not pity. {Aloud to her.) 
Thank you. 

{Enter Mrs. Allston c.) 

Allston {with enthusiasm, as he sees his wife enter). Ha ! ha! 
Here she is. {Going to her and leading Jier down gallantly.) Mr. 
Langdon, allow me to present you to {proudly) my wife. 

Mrs. Allston {bowing;). Have you and my husband settled 
your affairs amicably, Mr. Langdon ? 

Langdon. Wonderfully so. madam. 

Mrs. Allston. That is very nice, I am sure. And now I hope 
you will stay and have a cup of tea with us .-* 

Langdon. 1 should be most ha])py, but I am afraid Mrs. Peacock, 
whose guest I am, may be wondering what has become of me. 

Mrs. Allston. You need not worry on that score. Mrs. Pea- 
cock and the doctor will soon be here themselves. {Crossing to 
\ KV.^ and taking his hand.) It"s a great pleasure tons to have 
you here, Mr. Vane. I wish you would come to the house oftener. 

Vane. Thank you, my dear. It's not that I don't want to 
come, but it takes me some time to learn new places. I shall con- 
gratulate Barbara when she comes, and then I shall go back. 

{Enter Dr. Peacock c.) 

Dr. p. {coming down briskly rubbing his hands). Well, well, 
this is delightful. How are you all ? 

Mrs. Allston. Very well, thank you, doctor ; and always glad 
to see /(?;/. 

Dr. p. {as he shakes hands with her). Sweetly said, my dear 
Mrs. Allston. Very sweetly said. I may say, as sweetly said as 
anything I ever heard. 

Mrs. Allston. But where is Mrs. Peacock? 

Dr. p. She is coming under the escort of the so-called Judge 
Pettibone, and it serves them both right. 

Allston {as if to draw him out, laughing). But he is a judge, 
doctor ? 

Dr. p. Now wait, youVe going too fast. {Addressing himself 
to all.) I agree that he has been appointed to fill the position of 
trial justice of the township; so far, so good. But does lie fill it? 
No, sir. He rattles round in it. sir! And even then I doubt if the 
position is aware that he is in it. sir. 

Allsto.w Doctor, I'm afraid youVe uncurable. 

(Mrs. a. and Miss A. are engaged at the table r., arrajiging tea, 
etc. Elliot standing by Vane, talking with him. Eftter 
Barbara l.) 



The trustee. 13 

Dr. p. (seeing her as she enters^. Ha ! Here is the fundamen- 
tal cause of all this excitement. The cause of the — ahem — 
gathering as it were. Excuse my medical way of speaking, my 
dear. {Shaking her hand.) 

Barbara. But what do you prescribe, doctor } 

Dr. P. .Frequent application of— {Kissi)ig her handi) 

Elliot {coming up beliitidthetn'). Now, my dear doctor! If 
you will please call on the next patient ! 

Dr. p. {with a show of resistance). But, my dear sir, this is a 
very interesting case, and I — 

Elliot. But I have a great secret to tell the young lady. 

Dr. p. Ah ! I'll leave you then. But I'll call again, Miss 
Barbara. {Crosses to '^.) 

Elliot {apart to Barbara). Barbara, my dear, when you have 
time, I want you to feel in the right-hand pocket of my overcoat in 
the hall. I tliink 1 left something there. 

{Enter Philip c.) 

Elliot. You may show it to your friend Philip, and see if he 
considers it a suitable present for a young lady of twenty-one. 

'^KVC&PC^K {ecstatically). O Mr. Elliot ! You dear — {Starting 
toward him.) 

Elliot. Careful ! Careful ! Here he is himself {Runs away 
from her, across to R., lai/ohifig.) 

Philip {at l., apart to her). Barbara, dear {taking her hands), 
I, too, Iiave a birthday present for you, and if you will accept it 
you will make me more happy than I can tell you. 

{During the ensuing dialogtce between Barbara and Philip the 
others are variously occupied in such ways as ladies and gentle- 
men would be apt to be at an informal tea.) 

Barbara. 1 have always liked to receive a present from you 
Philip. 

Philip. And will you receive this one, whatever it may be ? 

Barbara. How can I without any hands ? 

Philip {letting her rigid iiand fall). You may have that hand 
{taking a ring from his pocket), but I want this one. {Holding up 
her left hand.) 

Bakbara {looking down). Why, what do you mean ? 

Philip. I mean that I want a birthday too. Not of my love — 
tliat came long ago; the birthday of my happiness. {Holding tip 
the ring.) May I ? 

Barbara. A ring ! {Dratving away her left hand confusedly.) 
O Philip ! really — I — I — couldn't. 

Philip. You don't love me, then ? 

Barbara {eagerly). Oh, I didn't say that. I mean — I — 
{Starts to run away from him ; Philip catches her.) 

Philip. Ah, sweetheart, you know you love me. Why not 
wear the pledge .'' 



14 THE TRUSTEE. 

Barbara {confused^. Philip, clear, please. Let me go now. 
To-morrow, I will tell you. 

Philip. Promise ? 

Barbara. Yes. {Startitig to cross to K.) 

Philip. O Barbara ! (^She tu?ns.) Will you keep it, or shall I ? 

Barbara. Oh, well ! perhaps I'd better. {Holding out her 
/land with averted face. Philip drops the ring into her hand.) 
You might lose it. 

Vane {from chair, as she is crossing). Barbara.'' 

Barbara {running back quickly to him and kneeling by his side) . 
Why, Uncle Daniel! To think that I should have forgotten /tf« .'' 

Vane {resting his hand upon Iter head). Never mind, my dear 
child. I wish you every happiness, every comfort, all peace. 
{Drawing her to him and kissing her.) May God bless you, my 
sweet one ! {/Uses as if to go.) 

Barbara. O Uncle Dan I Don't go yet. Stay and have a cup 
of tea in honor of my birthday. Please. 

(Vane resumes his seat, and Barbara crosses to R. Enter Mrs. 
Peacock <^«^^? Judge Pettibone. They are received pleasantly 
up stage.) 

Langdon (axzVj?^). Ha! Good idea. I'll try it. {Goes quickly 
to Dr. Peacock, who is standing apart at front.) Doctor, do you 
happen to have some sort of opiate or sleeping-draught about you? 

Dr. p. {taking from his pocket a tnedicine wallet). Semper 
paratus. Always prepared for an emergency. What do you want 
it for? 

Langdon. I have been troubled for years with sudden attacks 
of pain, feel one coming on now. {M-^incing.) I must take some- 
thing, or I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night. 

Dr. p. Bless me! You're not going to take it now, are you? 

Langdon. No, no. But the pain may get so bad any minute 
that I shall have to go to the house. 

Dr. P. {gi7'ing him a small vial). There! That'll fix you. 
Twenty drops, and you will sleep like a child. {To himself, as he 
replaces wallet in his pocket.) Indigestion! Not a doubt of it! 
{fakes from his pocket a handkerchief with large knot tied in the 
corner, looking at it.) Hello! Now what the devil did I tie that 
knot for? {Scratching his head.) Well, it will come to me later. 
Never knew it to fail. {Crosses to Vane and talks with hifn.) 

(Langdon. as soon as he receives the opiate, goes quickly to table, 
R., and gets a cup of tea. Miss Allston being busy pouring out 
other cups. As the Doctor crosses to Vane, Langdon, with his 
back to the others, pours so/ne of the opiate into the cup he has taken 
and crosses to Vane at l.) 
Langdon {aside, as he pours in the opiate). This will smooth 

the way to the safe. {Aloud.) Mr. Vane, let me give you a cup 

of tea. 



THE TRUSTEE. 1§ 

Miss A. {who has crossed just behind him, cup in hand). No, 
no, Mr. Langdon ; excuse me. {Passing between him and Vane, 
putting her Clip into Vane's hand, then turning to Langdon.) Mr. 
Vane is so used to me, you know. Keep that for yourself. 

Langdon {taken aback). But really — you see — I — I — never 
drink tea. 

Miss A. Let me have it then, please. (Langdon, confused, 
hands her the cup.) Here, doctor, do you want some of my tea? 

Dk. p. {who has been puzzling over the knot). Do I, Miss 
Eleanor! The idea of your asking such a question. {Takes the 
cup.) 

Miss A. Of course I know you like tea very much. 

Dr. p. Now wait. You're going too fast. There is tea, and 
tea. Some tea I don't like, but when I get your tea ! Well ! There ! 
7'hen I knowyV/j/ what I'm getting. 

Miss A. Doctor, you're a flatterer. 

Dr. p. Not at all, my dear Miss Eleanor. Honest admiration 
of you in all things, I assure you — Ahem! {To call the attention 
of all hands.) Now, Miss Barbara! At last I have a cup of tea, 
and can propose a toast. Let me see! In the bev — 

Mrs. p. {interrupting) . Now, Peacock, if you will be good 
enough to let some one else say a word. Judge Pettibone has a 
few remarks to make on this occasion. An occasion of great inter- 
est to us all. 

Dr. p. That's more than you can say for his remarks. 

Mrs. p. {severely). Peacock, you forget yourself. 

Dr. p. That's more than he ever does. 

Judge {standingc, with cup in hand, pompously). My friends, 
on an occasion like the present, when a human being arrives at the 
period of majority, it seems fitting that I, as the embodiment of the 
law, should wish that person a life of rectitude, sobriety, and de- 
corum under the law. May you enjoy all this. Miss Vane, and 
more. 

Dr. P. {derisively). More! More! {Holding up his teacup.) 
Now it's mytwvn. Miss Barbara, in the beverage of the celestials, 
allow me to pledge a heavenly being. 

Barbara. Oh, you dear man! 

Dr. p. May you live forever, entirely free from indigestion. 

Barbar.a.. Thank you, doctor, but you forget — heavenly be- 
ings never have indigestion. 

Dr. p. Now wait. You're going too fast. They do have it, 
but they never feel it on account of the ether. Very many happy 
returns of the day, my dear. {Drains his citp.) 

All. Bravo ! Bravo ! 

Langdon {aside). I've hit the wrong bird. 

CURTAIN. 



l6 THE TRUSTEE. 



ACT II. 



Scene. — Office of the trustee. Door c. 71? the left of door c. a 
large iron safe. To the right of door c. a -window {practical). 
Another door at L. Open f replace at R. Desks, chairs, etc.^ 
about the office. A high-backed easy-chair by the fire. Maps, etc. . 
on the walls. A table at L. c. Vane discovered sitting by the 
firelight, in the easy-chair, with his back to the window. 

Vane. Fifteen years ago to-day — fifteen years ! To me it ha?, 
seemed fifty! The train was rushing on, bearing me, full of happi- 
ness, flushed with hope, to lay my heart at my loved one's feet. A 
tremor, a sudden shock, and next — I knew that my sight was gone, 
my hope was killed. Others died then. Alas ! I must live, a 
helpless, useless thing {bitterly), a pretty thing on which to ask my 
lady to bestow her love — for pity's sake. And now again I'm with 
her day by day. Her voice as clear, as sweet as then; her hand as 
soft and warm ; her touch, for pity's sake, more tender. My heart 
as eager in its beat as then, my love for her as true and strong, 
myself unworthy her acceptance, save for pity's sake. Fool! to 
come here now to breathe the fragrance of a flower I cannot see 
to pluck. And yet, I am happier — 

{The window at R. is softly opened. Langdon ««^/ Marsh cli?nb 
in noiselessly, and steal on tiptoe to7aard Vane.) 

— or less wretched — yes, less wretched here. {Suddenly.) I feel 
a draugiit. {Starting to spring fj-om his chair.) Who's that? 

(Langdon, from behind, forces Vane back into the chair, and, after 
a struggle, gags him. During the struggle Vane passes his hand 
07'er the sleeve of Langdon's coat, and, in resisting him, holds 
him by both hands ; but his arms are pulled down by Marsh, and 
Langdon thus succeeds in gagoing him. He is then bound in the 
chair. Langdon //?(?// goes to the safe, which he opens by the cojn- 
bination. Takes the packages of money, Marsh meanwhile keep- 
ing watch by the window, in evident anxiety. The money taken, 
Langdon ^/wj part to Marsh, ajid they go out as they came in, 
closing the window softly after them. The safe doors are left 
open. Throughout the scene not a word is spoken by either man, 
and they walk on tiptoe. After a slight pause, during which Vane 
struggles ineffectually, the sound of a key in the door is heard.) 

{Enter Philip c.) 

Philip. Mr. Vane not here? He must have gone to bed. It'-- 
just as well. {Takes the paper frotn his pocket.) Now for the 



THE TRUSTEE. IJ 

combination. {Turns toward safe.) Hello! The safe open! 
What does this mean 'i The money! {Going to safe, and looking 
hurriedly throngh it. Then, as he turns.) Gone! Stolen! 
( Walks quickly down. Sees Vane.) Ha ! {Rushing to him.) 
Mr. Vane, are vou hurt? Gai^ged! ( Crumples the paper in his 
hand, and unconsciously throws it on the floor beside the chair, then 
quickly uiigags and unbinds him, letting the handkercliief with 
which he was bound drop itt his. Vane's, lop. Tor a moment 
N xii^ is unable to speak.) What has happened.'' Tell me. It is 
I, Philip. 

Vane. I i<now it is you. The safe! The money! Robbed! 
Don't stay here with me. Quick ! You may catch them. They 
went out tlie window. {As VmiA? r^islies off.) Get help! {Exit 
Philip C. Still sitting, holding in his hand the handkerchief. 
After a short period of intense thougJit, throwing himself back in 
the chair despairingly.) It puzzles me. My eyes! my eyes! 
With them I could have told. 'Twas John's coat — I felt it ! Why 
am I so sure it was not John himself? I do not know. I am puz- 
zled — all at sea — but, by Heaven, it was not John ! {Rising and 
standing in front of chair.) This handkerchief! Whose is it? 
{Puts it in his pocket.) And there were two of them. I must wait 
— I must think. {'Taking a step toward h.) I must say nothing. 
{Another step, then holding up his hands. ) I must /^i?/ my way. 
{Another step, placing his foot upon the crtanpled piece of paper 
dropped by VwWAV. Stops suddenly.) What's this? {Picks paper 
up.) A piece of paper. Perhaps they dropped it. {Puts it in his 
pocket, raising both hands to his temples, as in intense thought.) I 
know it was not John, but I must say nothing. I must wait and see. 
{Lauglis ironically.^ See? No, no, — not I! {Several quick, 
firtn steps are heard on the gravel outside. At sound of steps.) 
Hark! It's John. 

{Enter Allston c.) 

Vane. Did you meet Philip? 

Allston. Philip? No ; I am on the hunt for Peacock. He has 
disappeared, and his wife asked me to look for him. But you are 
dark here. Let's have some light. 

Vane. Wait, John! Come here — your arm. (Allston, 
puzzled, goes to him and gives him his arm. Vane passes his hand 
once quickly dowti the sleeve, then aside.) I knew it. Thank God ! 
{Aloud.) To my chair, please. {Aia^sto'H leads him to his chair.) 

Allston {ivhile lighting candles). I suppose the doctor has 
not been here? He disappeared just before dinner. 

Vane. Look at the safe, John. 

Allston {as he turns and sees the safe). Open? What does 
it mean? 

Vane. The money ! 

Allston {with a gasp). Not gone? 



l8 THE TRUSTEE. 

Vane. Yes — stolen. 

Allstox {after looking hurriedly through the safe) . Gone ! 
All gone I The money is gone ! {Standing erect with a btindle 
of papers in his Jiatid.) But, thank Heaven, the proofs of my hon- 
est trusteeship are here ! ( Suddenly taking a paper from the pack- 
age.) What paper is tliis? That's not one of mine. {Goes to 
table at l., and reads letter by the candles, ?nu tiering as he reads.) 
"Your first husband," — " anottier wife living," — "a professional 
bank thief," — " Aliston's safe I " Merciful Heaven ! Aly wife, the 
— and he a felon. Can this be true .'* {Glancing at safe.) Can 
she have — 

Vane {from the chair). What else has liappened, John ? 

Allston {luith a start). Nothing, notliing more, Dan. My 
loss unmans me. {Aside.) Is everything lost? My trust, my 
love? {With great feeling.) No, no; never while God lets me 
live will I believe it. All this about her past may be true. I knew 
it had been unhappy, poor child. She herself may have put this 
letter here for me to see, rather than tell me — but that she should 
have agreed to its infamous proposals — that she should have 
plotted against my fortunes, she who loved me! Never, never! 
Shame — shame on me for the thought! 

{During the last few words, steps are heard on walk. Enter 
Mrs. Peacock c, out of breath.) 

Mrs. p. {panting). Have you — found him? Is he — here? 
{Looking about fhe office.) O Peacock ! Peacock! To leave me 
in this way without a word! {'Jo Allston.) You look worried, 
alarmed. Do you suspect — suicide ? {Rushing to him excitedly.) 
Perhaps you know. Tell me the worst. 

Allston. You are giving yourself needless anxiety, Mrs. Pea- 
cock. I assure you I know nothing: about the doctor. I have no 
doubt he was suddenly called to see a patient. 

Mrs. P. What! Go to see a patient without telling me first 
who was sick ! The idea ! You don't know me, sir. 

Allston. However that may be, Mrs Peacock, and much as I 
sympathize with your feelings in the matter, I must really ask you 
to leave us. The fact is, I am — I have met with a great misfor- 
tune. 

Mrs. p. What do you mean ? 

Vane. Confound the woman ! Will she never go ? 

Allston. I have been robl^ed — all Barbara's money is stolen. 
{Points to the safe.) 

Mrs. P. {in great excitement). A robbery ! And Peacock miss- 
ing ! I see it all. {Rushes out. Exit c.) 

Allston {turning quickly to Vane). Tell me. were you here 
when it happened ? 

Vank {in chair). Here in this chair — seized from behind, 
gagged, and bound. Philip came and released me. He has gone 
for help, to try to catch them. 



THE TRUSTEE. 1 9 

Allston. Them ? Was there more than one ? 

Vane. Yes; there were two. 

Allston (^after a momeiifs liesitation') . Men ? 

Vane. Men.' Of course. No woman could have done it. 

Allston {asiiff). Suspicious fool! {Aloud) And you have 
no idea who they were ? 

Vane. Not the least. {Taking paper from his pocket.) But 
I found this on the floor, after they had gone. {Holding it out to 
/li/H.) It may be a clew. 

Allston {having taken the paper front him and zvalkcd to L., 
glances at it, tJien trembling, aside). My wife! Her writing! 
The coml:)ination ! She lias betrayed me ! {Sinks; sobbing, into 
chair by the table, letting his head fall upon his arms.) 

Vane. Does it prove anything, John ? Is it a clew ? 

Allston {lifting his head, speaking hurriedly). No, no, noth- 
ing — absolutely nothing. 

Vane. I thought you seemed agitated. 

Allston. My loss— it's my loss, Dan. {Aside.) What I hold 
dearest in all the world is lost. {His head sinks upon his arfns.) 

{Enter Miss Allston ««(/ Elliot c. Miss Ai.\.s,TOti goes quickly 
to Vane ; Elliot walks less quickly to Allston, and stands 
with his hand on Allston's shoulder.) 

Miss A. {as she reaches Vane). Are you hurt.? Did they 
hurt you ? 

Vane. No, no. Tell me, what is John doing.? 

Miss A. He is sitting at the table, with his head buried in his 
arms. 

Vane {aside, slowly shaking his head). It was not he — it was 
not he. 

Elliot. John, old friend, look up. It can't be helped. (Alls- 
ton does not move.) 

{Enter Philip c, hurriedly.) 

Philip {excited). No trace — not a sign. I stopped at Petti- 
bone's, and he has sent men out in all directions. 

{Enter Mrs. Allston and Barbara c.) 

Mrs. a. {going quickly to her husband and kneeling by him, fol- 
lowed by Barbara, who stands beside him). John ! IJ)ear John ! I 
am so sorry, dear. Speak to me, John. Let me help you bear it. 

Allston {springing up suddenly, catching her by the hand, and 
drawing her quickly to c, then, aside to her in hurried tones). 
Not another word to me — you have broken my heart. I know 
everything. {She starts.) You needn't fear; I'll not betray you. 
Your secret is safe with me. Go to your brother. 

(Mrs. Allston crosses to Phii-ip quickly, much disturbed.) 



20 THE TRUSTEE. 

Mrs. a. {aside to hint). You didn't <;et it, Phil? 

fniLiP (aside to /ler). The letter? No. 

Mrs. a. (aside to hijn). He iias read it. (Lets her head fall 
upon his shoulder. He puts his cirni around her and c<'niforts her. 
Durini^ the foregoifig passatj^c' between Mrs. Am.sto.v and Philip, 
Allston has resumed his seat, but not his fjr-ner position.') 

Barbara (resting her hand on Allston's shoulder). Never 
mind, Uncle John. What difterci ce does it make? I .siiall be just 
as happy witiiout it. 

Allston (placing his hand upon hers, remaining seated). Dear 
child! Had this happened a week aj;o, I could Imve made restitu- 
tion, but now I am afraid my own property is rot nearly worth what 
you have lost. 

Elliot. That's not sure yet, John. The report about the mine 
may not be true. 

Allston (bitterly). No, no. Everything bad is true. 

(Enter Mrs. Peacock, dragging Dr. Peacock after her by the 
arm. The Doctor looks very sleepy.) 

Mrs. P. (breaihessly). I have found him I Here he is ! (Drag- 
ging him to C, and leaving him staudin:^ theic alone.) There, 
sir! Now, perhaps, you will tell all these peojjle the same ridicu- 
lous story you have told me. 

Dr. p. {yaivning). Now wait. Mrs. Peacock, vcu're going too 
fast. Nothing ridiculous about it. I fell ()au'iis) asleep. That's 
all. 1 think that's plain enouj^h. 

Mrs. p. (stertily). And / think you have been guilty of either 
drunkenness, Peacock, or burglary, or both. 

Dr. p. Burglary ! The woman's crazy. 

(Enter Judge Pettibone c. Dr. Peacock goes to Philip, who 
explains to him, apart, wJiat lias happened.) 

Judge {flustered and very i^npoi taut). I hive t:iken every pre- 
caution to arrest the robbers in their flight. In t'act, I may say, I 
have left no avenue of escape unguarded In a case of this magni- 
tude, it is of the utmost importance tliat every precaution should 
be taken, without the slightest hesita'iuii. .-\nci. 1 may a Id, every 
precaution has been taken, and without the slightest hesi'.ation on 
my part. 

Dr. p. {yawning). Hear! Hear! 

Judge. And now, Mr. Vane. I understand tin' vou were the 
only person present when the luirglary \\:is (OiuviteH. Can you 
give me any information that may ass:.-.; in t;.e lielection of the 
criminal? 

Vane. I found — 

Allston (springing itp front his seat. To Vane, interrupting). 
Stop! (To Judge.) You are wasting your time. You may call 
back your men. The criminal is in this room. (Glancing at his 
wife.) 



THE TRUSTEE. ^t 



JudOe. Whom do you mean ? 
Allston. Myself, /am the man. 

QUICK CURTAIN. 



ACT III. 

Scene. — Same as Act I. Time, morning of following day. 

{Enter Barbara c, distressed atid worried.') 

Barbara. Oh, such a wretched night as we have had ! Poor 
Uncle John! 1 believe the robbery must have affected his mind. 
He guilty of such a thing ? Never ! I wouldn't believe it if he said 
so a thousand times. Dear me ! 1 wish 1 had never had any money. 
Yesterday we were all so happy, and now see what it has done. 
Uncle John will not say a word to a soul, and refuses to have Dora 
come into his room. I shall go mad if I stay here by myself 
and think about it. I mtist talk to somebody. {Starts toward 
door c.) 

{Enter Elliot c.) 

{Rushing to ?neet him.) O Mr. Elliot ! Vm so glad to see you. 
What is the news .'' 

Elliot {as they come down). Nothing much, my dear. I have 
just come from an interview with that pompous, self-satisfied, stupid 
personification of the law. Justice Pettibone, and I am enjoying the 
first rational sensation I have had since last night. A feeling of 
healthy irritation. 

Barbara. Does he believe Uncle John guilty ? 

Elliot. Oh, yes. HasnH a doubt of it. He said that the idea 
that a human being should say he was guilty when he was not, was 
preposterous. However, after much objection on his part, I finally 
induced him to put off the hearing until to-morrow, and to allow your 
Uncle John to remain here in the house. 

Barbara. And is the sheriff. Conn O'Hara, to stay here too? 

Elliot. Yes ; Allston is to be under Conn's surveillance. 

Barbara. Poor Conn ! He seems to feel dreadfully uncomfort- 
able at being made to stand guard over his old employer. Have 
you seen Uncle John this morning ? 

Elliot. Yes, dear ; and not a word would he say to me except, 
" Ned, old friend, if you love me, ask me nothing." 

Barbara. What does it all mean? 

Elliot. Heaven only knows ! I must go again and try to com- 
fort him. {Turning at the door.) Keep a brave heart, Barbara, my 
girl. All may be well yet. {Exit at door R.) 



22 THE TRUSTEK. 

Barbara. What a comfort it is to have a man like that in the 
house — so kind ! so thoughtful ! 

{Enter Philip c.) 

Philip. Good-morning, dear. 

Barbara. O Philip, i,sn"t it horrible ? 

Philip. Awful ! I cant imagine why he did it. 

Barbara {indignantly). Pliilip ! What do you mean ? lam 
ashamed of you. 

Philip. No, no, no. You mistake me. I can't imagine why he 
should accuse himself. We all know he never would do it. 

Barbara. Forgive me, dear, but I am so worried. Will he see 
Dora yet t (Philip shakes his head.) Why is it, Philip ? There 
is something underneath it all that I don't understand. What does 
it all mean .' 

Philip. Don't ask me. I cannot tell you without betraying a 
secret. But time will cure it all, and we must prove him innocent 
now, in spite of himself. Barbara, darling, forgive me for speaking 
now. I am not selfish {taking her hand), but you are always first 
in my thoughts. Tell me, sweetheart, will you wear my ring ? 

Barbara {looking down) . Now that I haven't a penny in the 
world ? 

Philip. Now, more than ever. 

Barbara. You just said we must prove him innocent, in spite 
of himself. In spite of ;//i'self, Philip, I must wait until he is proved 
innocent. I have no heart to give until then. Think of //////, work 
for iiitn, prove him innocent, then come to me. {Exit door c.) 

Philip. Pll do my best. God bless her heart ! 

{Enter Dr. Peacock door R., mysteriously.) 

Dr. p. {as he conies down, excitedly). Philip ? Just the man I 
want. {Catching kini by the arm and dragging hint across to R.) 
Come here. I want to talk to you. Can you keep a secret ? 

Philip. Of course I can. 

Dr. p. Now wait. You're going too fast. Perhaps you can. 
Will you keep a secret ? 

Philip. I will. 

Dr. P. Promise ? 

Philip. Yes, of course. What is it? 

Dr. p. Well. 1*11 tell you. Do you know-why I fell asleep last 
night ? (Philip shakes his head.) Guess ! 

Philip. Because you were sleepy. 

Dr. p. No, sir! Because I was drugged! 

Philip. What do you mean ? 

Dr. P. That's what I mean. Drugged. Drugged with my own 
medicine. Hoist with my own petard, by ginger! 

Philip. How so? 

Dr. P. Listen! Last evening a certain man in this very room 
asked me for an opiate to relieve his pain. I gave it to him. And 



THE TRUSTEE. 23 

I am convinced he poured some of it in my cup of tea while my at- 
tention was diverted. 

Philip. But — 

Dr. p. Now wait. You're going too fast. At first I thought it 
was indigestion — for a moment, liver — but this morning I know 
by my condition that it was the drug. Now who do you suppose 
that man was ? 

Philip. Haven't the least idea. 

Dr. P. {in statue w/u'sper). That man was — Langdon ! 

Philip. Langdon ! What object could he have ? 

Dr. p. He was concerned in this robbery, mark my word. 

Philip. Oh, nonsense! But suppose he was, why drug you? 

Dr. P. Because he feared my watchful eye- Because he dreaded 
my keen perception. Because he was staying at my house, and 
didn't dare face me when he returned from the job, for fear I should 
detect his guilt at the first glance at his face. 

Philip. You are perfectly certain you were drugged? 

Dr. p. Do you think, young man, after all these years of prac- 
tice, I don't know the sensations that follow a large dose of lauda- 
num? Well, I guess 1 do. Now what I'm coming to is this. That 
man is concerned in this thing in some way. I must stay here on 
the ground and watch him, without a word. Von must take the 
next train to New York, get a detective, and bring him back here. 

Philip. But, doctor — 

Dr. p. No "but" about it. You t/iusi go, and go quick too, 
if you want to catch that train. {Lookhis; at his watch.) 

Philip. But I don't know any detective. 

Dr. P. Well, I do. Hunt. Dick Hunt's the man. {Giving 
him a slip of paper.) There's his address. He's a good one. I've 
tried him ; had occasion some years ago to look up the character of 
a — ahem ! But that doesn't concern you. Come ! Be off! {Push- 
ing him t07vard the door.) 

Philip. Will you explain my absence ? 

Dr. p. {still pushing). Yes, yes, yes. But mind you {stopping 
him at the door), not a word to a mortal soul here about it. 

{Exit Philip door l. Enter Mrs. Peacock c. She overhears 
the last sentence., " A'ot a word,''^ etc., and stands inside the door 
waiting.) 

Dr. P. There! That's done. Now I'll go ior {turns and sees 
his wife) — the devil ! 

Mrs. p. {severely). To the devil, you mean, Dr. Peacock. 

Dr. P. Nothing of the sort, madam. We are not talking of the 
same person. 

Mrs. p. Is there more than one of them. Dr. Peacock? 

Dr. P. {ti'stily). There is, madam, but of the other sex. 

Mrs. p. I fail to catch your meaning, sir. However, I dare say 
you don't know what you mean yourself, after the disgraceful condi- 
tion you were in last night. 



24 THE TRUSTEE, 

Dr. p. i^uith dignity^. Mrs. Peacock, I have told you repeat- 
edly your su.spicions are unfounded. I drank nothing but a cup of 
tea. 

Mrs. p. Then this story about your being asleep was all a pre- 
tence, and you have some motive for deceiving me. 

Dr. p. Of course, of course. Now tell us the motive. 

Mrs. p. I will not gratify your curiosity. 

Dr. p. Suit yourself 

Mrs. p. You don't mean to tell me you were not trying to de- 
ceive me ? 

Dr. p. I don't mean to tell you anything. 

Mrs. p. {angry). Then Til find out. 

Dr. p. Let's see you do it. 

Mrs. p. {growing more angry). Have a care, Peacock. Be- 
cause John Allston has confessed, you needn't think that acquits 
you in my eyes. 

Dr. p. -That's the only place where I'm guilty — in your eye. 

Mrs. p. Don't you be too sure. I think Judge Pettibone has 
his suspicions too. 

Dr. P. Judge Pettibone be Now wait. Pm going too 

fast. 

Mrs. P. {working herself ttp). What is there to disprove that 
you were an accessory to the deed ? 

Dr. P. {imitating her). Nothing. 

Mrs. p. {more angry). What is there to disprove that Allston 
gave you the money to put in a safe place 1 

Dr. p. {imitatino her). Nothing. 

Mrs. p. What is there to disprove that your ill-gotten gains are 
at this moment in my house ? 

Dr. P. {imitating her). You haven't got any house. It's my 
house. 

Mrs. p. {starting toward door), /believe it is there, Peacock. 

Dr. p. All right. {Laughing.) 

Mrs. p. {backing toward door). And I shall search the house 
till I find it, Peacock ! 

Dr. P. {laughing). Blaze away! 

Mrs. p. (/« doorway). And I sha'n't be long about it, either, 
Peacock ! 

Dr. P. {laughing). Go it! Hoop la! {Exit Mrs. Peacock 
in a rage C. With change of manner.) Nov/ I suppose there are 
people in this world who would consider that woman one of the 
gentlest, sweetest, and most amiable of her sex. I can't aj^ree 
with them. Thank Heaven she has got a job that will keep her 
busy for a long time. I sincerely hope she'll continue searching till 
she finds it. ( Faking liandkercliicf from pocket and stopping sud- 
denly when about to blow his nose, holding up the knotted corner of 
the handkerchief .) There you are again! {Scratching his head.) 
Now I'll be hanged if I can remember what 1 tied that knot for. 
Great thing, though. Now I know I've forgotten something, other- 



THE TRUSTEE. 25 

wise it might never have occurred to me. (As he replaces hand- 
kerc/iief.) Can't fool away time over that now, however. Come 
to me later. Well, I've started Philip off, so that's settled. But 
this is a great responsibility for me. A great deal depends upon my 
behavior. I must show no sign of rny suspicion, or when PhiHp 
comes back the bird will have flown. I must treat this fellow 
Langdon just as if nothing had happened. Be a sphinx, Peacock; 
that's it, a sjjhinx. 

{Enter Judge Pettibone attd Langdon c.) 

Dr. p. {wilh marked cordiality, and in a breezy mattner). 
Well, well, well! How is Mr. Langdon this morning? 

Langdon. Ah, doctor ! 

Judge. Dr. Peacock seems hilarious this morning. A little out 
of place, doctor, when we consider recent events. 

Dr. p. Nothing of the sort, sir! IVIy customary way of greeting 
Mr. Langdon, sir. And if you intend to insinuate — 

Judge {interruptini^). A judge never insinuates. Dr. Peacock. 

Dr. p. a physician is never hilarious over suffering. Judge 
Pettibone. 

Langdon. There, gentlemen, you misunderstand one another. 
{To Judge.) I'm sure my friend the doctor is as sorry as you and 
I, judge, that Mr. Allston should have yielded to temptation. 

Dr. p. What's that.? Bosh, sir! I don't believe he did it, not 
for a minute. 

Judge. Are you aware that he confessed that he did do it, Dr. 
Peacock ? 

Dr. p. I don't care if he confessed a hundred times, I wouldn't 
believe it. 

Judge {condescendingly) ■ I am afraid you would never make a 
judge. Dr. Peacock. 

Dr. P. Now wait. You're going too fast. They're making 
judges out of almost anything nowadays. 

Langdon. Your loyalty to your friend does you great credit, Dr. 
Peacock; liut you must admit that, apart from his confession, the 
condition of Mr. Allston's own property would supply a reasonable 
motive for the deed. {Looking at Judge.) 

Judge {bowing). A very strong point, Mi. Langdon. Your 
discernment does j'<7« great credit. 

Dr. p. Nonsense ! Nothing to do with it. 

Judge {condescendingly). Well, well, Dr. Peacock, we won't 
argue the case now. 

Dr. P. No ; so I see. We'll decide it now, and argue it to- 
morrow. And I wouldn't be surprised if it were proved that Alls- 
ton was in his own house all the time. 

Langdon. You forget, doctor, that you are hardly able to know 
about that. You were sound asleep. 

Dr. P. {forgetting himself). And why was I asleep, sir? It 



26 THE TRUSTEE. 

was because — ahem. {Aside.') Be a sphinx, Peacock. {Aloud.) 
Because I was, sir. 

Judge {meaningly). Ifyow were! 

Dr. p. Fudge ! Go talk to my wife! 

{Enter Elliot l.) 

Judge. Good-mornino;, Mr. Elliot. I called in to say that I 
shall require the presence of all the members of this household as 
witnesses to-morrow. (Elliot bows.) And I beg to remind you 
that Mr. Allston, in being allowed to remain in this house in the 
constable's charge, is, to a certain extent, on parole, and at your 
request. And I hope there will be no failure on his part to appear 
also. 

Elliot {stiffly). You need have no anxiety on that score, sir. 

Langdon. Such things have happened, you know, Mr. Elliot. 

Elliot {turning upon him quickly). I must trouble you to 
mind your own business. {Pointing to door C) Good-morning. 

{Exit Langdon, shrugging his shoulders, followed by Judge, C 
Exit Dr. Peacock after them, whistling softly.) 

{Eftter Allston and Conn O'Hara l.) 

(Allston, with head bent and dejected bearing, walks slowly to 
table at R., and seats hitnself. Conn walks sheepishly to chair 
at L., sits on the edge, hat in hand, and throughout the scetie is 
very ill at ease.) 

Elliot {going to Allston ; theji with his hand on Allston's 
shoulder). John, old man, hasn't this gone about far enough? 

Allston. What do you mean ? 

Elliot. I mean this pretence that you are guilty. 

Allston. And why do you call it pretence ? 

Elliot. Because I know you, John Allston. 

Allston {with emotion). Don't, Ned, don't ! For God's sake, 
don't ! You are only making me more wretched. 

Elliot. 1 am only trying to make you more reasonable. God 
knows I don't want to give you pain, but this thing must not go on. 
Why, man, your trial comes to-morrow. 

Allston. I know it. Let it come. 

Elliot. And if you repeat this senseless, crazy confession of 
guilt — 

Allston (interrupting) . Why should I not t 

Elliot. Because it is not true. {Taking him by the arm and 
bringing him to his feet.) Look me in the eye, John. Will you 
say to me, face to face, man to man, friend to friend — 

Allston {breaking away from him). Not another word! 
{Throwing himself into the chair, attd burying his head in his 
arms.) You are torturing me. {Sobbing.) 



THE TRUSTEE. 2/ 

{Enter Vane and Miss Allston c.) 

Elliot. I c^ say no more. 

Miss A. {rushing to Allston). John ! My dear brother ! 
Why do you persist in this — 

Allston {interrupting, taking her hand). Eleanor, my sister, 
I know you mean it i<indiy, but you must ask me nothing. 

Miss A. And may I not even try to comfort you ? 

Allston. No, no. Not even that. 

Vane {who has found his way to c, after being left at the door 
by Miss Allston, and who has been intently listening to the fore- 
going). We are all wrong. It is not our place to try. There is 
but one comforter, but one confidant, for a man in such trouble. 

Allston {quick/y). Whom do you mean ? 

Vane. Your wife, John. 

Allston. You will drive me mad. Anything but that ! 
{Rushes from the ?oo>n, followed by Elliot, puzzled and dis- 
tressed. Exeunt l.) 

Vane {aside., shaking his head). No light yet. I am still in 
the dark. Patience ! Patience ! 

Miss A. {to Conn). Conn, you are forgetting your duty. 

Conn {still seated as before). How's that, mum .f" 

Miss A. I say } ou are forgetting your duty. You must follow 
Mr. Allston. 

Conn {still sitting) . Shure I t'ought he'd be back soon, mum. 

Miss A. You should not let him go out of your sight. 

Conn {risijig slowly). Well, mum, if it's me juty, I'll do it; 
but, to my moind, me juty's a dir-r-ty piece o' wor-r-k for the likes 
o' me to be doin'. {Exit l.) 

(Miss Allston leads Vane gently to arm-chair at l., and stands 
near him.) 

Miss A. {sighing). What can we do ? 

Vane. He should see his wife. What safer place to go for 
help ? {Sighs.) His wife ! How much the word means ! She is 
his help, his hope, his faith, his bosom friend, his all in all ! 

Miss A. {letting her hand fall up07i his shoulder). Would your 
wife be all that to you ? 

Vane. My wife ? There must be no wife for such as I. {Pla- 
cing his hatid upon hers as it rests upon his shoulder.) Once I 
should have asked a noble woman to be all this, and more, to me 
— a woman true as faith, sweet as hope, kind as charity; but now 
{releasing her hand, she still remaining standing by his side), no 
wife for me ! I'll hamper no unselfish life with what remains of 
me. No, no. I'll have no woman waste herself on "me. 

Miss A. {kneeling beside the chair). Not even if it be her dear- 
est wish, has always been her dearest wish ? 

Vane. Does pity prompt her? 

Miss A. {taking his hands and placing one agaitist each of her 
cheeks) . Does this seem like pity ? 



28 THE TRUSTEE. 

Vane (rising, aftd drawing her to him). At last. {Looking 
upward.) I ask no more than this. 'Tis dearer than the light. 
(Exeunt c.) 

(^Enter h.\x,sio^, followed by Conn, l.) 

(Allston has some papers in his hand. Goes to table R. ; sits and 
arranges them, and writes. CONN resumes former position. 
Soon leans back in his chair and pretends to be asleep, and snores 
loudly, then looks round sideways at Allston, who continues 
writing and pays no attention to what has happened.') 

Conn. Misther Allston ! 

Allston {without looking up). Yes, Conn. 

Conn. Did you hear me shnor-r-e ? 

Allston {as before). I did. 

Conn. Well, it's asleep I am, d'ye moind ? 

Allston {as before). All right. {Continues writing.) 

Conn {after having leaned back in his chair and pretended sleep 
for a time, then looking at Allston <7J before, then aside). What's 
the matter wid the man.'' Shure he has no lirains ! {To Allston.) 
Hist ! {Pointing over his shoulder with his thumb toward door 
c.) Now's your chance. Shure it's asleep I am. Get out o' this. 

(Elliot and Barbara appear at door c. He points to Allston, 
then gently pushes iter toward him, then disappears.) 

{Enter Barbara c.) 

{Aside.) The stoopid looney ! Will I have to trow him out? 
{Rises, turns, sees Barbara, and resumes original attitude. 
Barbara goes softly to Allstox ; puts her arm j-ound his neck 
from behind, and kisses him.) 

Allston. Barbara ! What do you want, my dear ? 

Barbara. Nothing, Uncle John, but to say " good-morning." 

Allston. Thank you, my child. 

Barbara. I have just left poor Dora. {k\x.%TO^ turns away.) 
She is so miserable ! She would not speak to me. She had 
thrown herself upon the floor, and has been lying there for hours, 
sobbing as if her heart would break. 

Allston {springing to his feet). Send her to me. 

Barbara. I will. {Runs quickly off. Exit c.) 

Allston. She must not suffer so. My poor wife! I must at 
least be kind. {To Conn.) Conn, my man, will you trust me.'' 
Will you leave me alone liere for a while ? 

Conn {springing up with alacrity). Shure I will that, sir, jf ye 
have the mind lo do it that way, 

{E\it quickly C. Allston remains seated at table with his back 
to the door,) 



THE TRUSTEE. 29 

{Enter Mrs. Allston c.) 

Mrs. a. {standing inside door). I have come, John. 

Allston {without turning). Come here, by me. I. have some- 
thing to say to you, my child. (Mrs. Allston goes to him and 
stands bv his chair.) I have no wisli to give you pain by speaking 
of what has happened. It is enough for me to say that after what 
I discovered last night you can never be the same to me again. 

Mrs. a. {falling on her knees beside his chair., and leaning her 
head on its arm). Don't say that, John. You will break my 
heart ! 

Allston {stroking her hair, speaking very gently). There, 
there, my child. You must be reasonable. I did not send for you 
to talk about the past. Merely to say to you that I forgive you. 
Yes, forgive you freely. 

Mrs. a. {sobbing violently). Don't speak like that, John ; I can- 
not bear it. 

Allston {soothingly). Come, come, this will do no good, Dora. 
Calm yourself, my child. I can appreciate the temptation you were 
under, but {breaking down), my darling, my darling! why did you 
not trust my love ? Why did you not confide in me .'' 

Mrs. a. {springing to her feet, speaking with spirit). That 
isn't fair, John ! I would have confided in you. I would have told 
you all before I married you, but you would not hear me ; you would 
not listen. 

Allston (rt'.y/Vt'). I see! She thinks I do not know her con- 
nection with the robbery. {To her.) Well, well, never mind ; it 
is past now. I liave said my say. {Turns to table.) 

Mrs. a. {after walking dejectedly part way to door c, then turn- 
ing). John! 

Allston {without looking round). Well ? 

Mrs. a. You say I can never be the same to you again. 'Twill 
break my heart, but I will try to bear it. But for the sake of the 
old love {coming nearer to him), for the sake of the love I shall 
always feel for you, take back bef'ore it is too late this mad asser- 
tion that you are guilty. 

Allston {turtiing and looking at her fixedly). And let my 
wife take my place? 

Mrs. a. Take your place? What do you mean? 

Allston. If I do not plead guilty, I must testify. 

Mrs. a. What of that? 

Allston {springing to his feet and catching her by the hand, 
then almost fiercely). What of that? Will you never understand 
that I know all {taking the combination paper fro7n his pocket and 
holding it before her), and that, as a witness, I must show them 
this? That I must prove jK(7«/' guilt? {Releasing her hand.) 

Mrs. a. {aside). Philip's paper! I see it all. {To him, 
breathlessly^ And that is why you feel so toward me? 

Allston {his back turned to her). And is not that enough ? 
that you should sacrifice my trust ? 



30 THE TRUSTEE. 

Mrs. a. And it is not my past — my unhappy life ? 

AllstON {t7i ruing sJuirply). No, no! If that were all, I'd 
love you more than ever. 'Twould be my greatest happiness to 
make you forget the past. 

Mrs. a. {^laughing hysterically, stretching her arms towards 
hifn). John ! John ! 

Allston {springing to her and faking her in his arms'). Dora ! 
What does this mean .'" Have I wronged you .'' Speak to me. 

iMus. A. {laicghing and sobbing). I gave — that paper — to 
Philip to get the letter forme — from the safe — I knew nothing 
of the robbery — nothing. That's all, John. 

Allston {folding her closely to him). My wife again! My 
darling! {Turning quickly toward door C, one arm still about 
her waist, her head upon his shoiildcr, calls loudly, laughing in 
his excite^nent.) Elliot ! Vane ! Eleanor ! All of you ! Come ! 
Quick ! 

{Enter quickly Elliot, Vane, Miss Allston, Barbara, Dr. 
and Mrs. Peacock c.) 

Listen to me, all of you. 

{Enter JVDGE and Langdon. 10/10 stand within the door c.) 

When I said last night that I was guilty, I lied. I am innocent! I 
swear it on my honor ! 

Langdon. That is for the court to decide. 

CURTAIN. 



ACT IV. 

Scene. — The trial justice^s office. Very plainly furnished. A 
large table, with green enamel-cloth top at back c. Shabby. Be- 
hind it a chair. At x.., near front, a slightly raised place with 
rail for witness-stand. A table at R., chairs, and perhaps a 
settee about the room. The general effect to be that of the office 
of any trial justice of a smalT country toion. Nothing imposing 
or elegant about it. Door at back to tight of large table, and win- 
dows to light of door and behind table. 

{Enter Judge, carrying bundle of papers, and Langdon.) 

Judge {as they come down). I quite agree with you, Mr. Lang- 
don. I can conceive of no reason for his denial of his guilt now, in 
the face of his previous confession, except that he has succeeded 
in persuading Vane not to tell what he knows. 

Langdon. That's the point exactly, judge. 



The trustee. 31 

Judge. But there is one thing that puzzles me, and that is, how 
can Vane have anything to conceal ? Being blind, he can have 
seen nothing. 

Langdon. You forget, judge, for the moment, that the loss of 
one faculty is sure to make the others more acute. 

Judge. True, true ; he may have heard something. 

Langdon. Yes, possibly. But there are other senses besides 
hearing. 

Judge {looking v:ry luise). That, too, had occurred to me. He 
might have smelled something. 

Langdon. Perhaps so. But there are still other senses. 

Judge [counting on his fingers in thonght, then suddenly). I have 
it ! ( Very wisely.) He must have touched something — felt some- 
thing that he reco;4nized. 

Langdon {with mock admiration). Wonderful discernment ! 
Judge Pettibone, 1 am amazed ; yes, sir, amazed at your shrewd- 
ness, your perception. The idea would have occurred to none but 
a keen, able mind.' 

Judge {much complimented). Thank you, Mr. Langdon. But 
you must remember that the exercise of a judge's duties tends to 
make the mind alert. 

Langdon. Allow me to say, judge, that such remarkable alert- 
ness of mind as your own must have been to a certain extent inborn. 
(Judge bows complacently.) But I ought to tell you that Suzette, 
the maid-servant, says that she is sure Allston was not in the house 
at ten o'clock on the night of the burglary, because his fur-trimmed 
overcoat was not in its usual place in the hall. 

Judge. I have an idea. In his struggles with Allston, Vane 
may have felt some part of this overcoat. 

Langdon. Wonderful ! Marvellous ! I wonder what became of 
the handkerchief with which he was gagged .-^ 

Judge {excitedly). What's that? what's that? The handker- 
chief? {Wisely.) Ah, yes! I had thought of that top. I shall 
ask. {Looking at his watch.) Bless my soul ! It is nearly time 
for the trial, and I must prepare my papers. {Goes to large table 
at back and arranges papers, etc.) 

Langdon {aside). His mind'xs already prepared, thanks to his 
able assistant. {Pointing to himself.) I wouldn't have made such 
a bad judge myself. 

{Enter Elliot and Dr. Peacock.) 

Elliot. Good-morning, Judge Pettibone. I want to say to you 
that, at my friend AUston's request, I shall conduct his defence. 

(Elliot goes to table at r. and arranges papers, etc.) 

Judge. Very well, Mr. Elliot ; but I regret that you haven't a 
more promising case. 
Dr. p. Bosh! 
Judge. What did you remark, Dr, Peacock ? 



32 THE TRUSTEE. 

Dr. p. Nothinj^ of importance, sir. 

Judge. That's wiiat I supposed, Dr. Peacock. 

Y>K. v. (^huffily). What do you mean by that, sir ? Do you mean 
to insinuate — 

Judge {interniptiiig). I must again remind you, Dr. Peacock, 
that a judge never insinuates. 

Dr. p. Humph ! {A'otices that Langdon is laughing at him. 
To him.) And what do you find to laugh at, I'd like to know? 
Have a care, sir. or Fll — (Asii/e.) Now wait, Pm going-toofast. 
Be a sphinx, Peacock ! 

(Langdon strolls back to Judge, and converses with him apart.) 

{Enter Barbara. She goes qtcickly to Dr. Peacock, and talks to 
him aside.) 

Barbara. Doctor, can't you tell me something about Philip ? 
He went away yesterday in the train, and Suzette says he took his 
valise with him. 

Dr. p. {looking wise) . Probably some important business took 
him to the city, my dear. Possibly something you wouldn't under- 
stand. 

Barbara. . But your wife told me you could tell me all about it. 

Dr. p. She did, did she ? ' 

Barbara. She said you could if you would. And O doctor! 
she didn't say so, but she implied that Philip {sob) had run away. 
{Sobbing. ) 

Dr. p. Confound the woman ! There, there, my dear, I don't 
mean you. {Growing vety uneasy.) There, don't cry — there's a 
good girl — please don't cry, I — 

Barbara {between sobs). I wouldn't, doctor, but they will sus- 
pect him next, and I couldn't bear that. 

Dr. p. {ttying to comfort her, himself very uneasy). Now wait 
— there! For Heaven's sake don't cry ! If you cry I'll — you're 
going too fast. {Suddenly catching her by the arm.) Here, I'll 
tell you all about it. {Drawing her to one side.) 

Barbara. Well ? % 

Dr. p. {I'Cjy mysteriously). He has gone to New York for a 
detective. There, not a word to a soul ! Remember I 

Barbar.a. Oh, I am so glad ! Wliom do you suspect ? 

Dr. P. Hum! Ah! Well! {With great mystery.) Are you 
sure you won't tell ? 

BARB.A.RA {eagerly). Yes, ves ; I promise. 

Dr. p. {aside). Be a sphin.x, Peacock ! {To her.) Hope to 
die ? 

Barbara. Yes, yes, yes. Who is it ? 

Dr. p. My wife. {Aside.) Two can play at that game. 

{Enter 'Vane and Mi.ss Ai.lstox, followed by Conn and Mr. and 
Mrs. Allston. then Marsh and Suzette. Allston remains 
near the door with Conn, others take seats about the rootn.) 



Ttt£ TRUSTEE. 33 

Judge {looking at his watch'). The court is now ready to pro- 
ceed with the hearing. Constable O'Hara, have you the prisoner 
here ? 

(Conn and Allston walk to c, in front of Judge's table.) 

Conn. He is here, your honor. {Goes back to original position.) 

Judge. You are here, John Allston, charged with having, on the 
thirteenth of this month, taken from your own safe the sum of sixty 
thousand dollars belonging to your ward, and with having assaulted 
and bound Mr. Daniel Vane, who was in your office at the time, in 
order that tlie deed might seem to be that of thieves or burglars, 
and you be thus enabled to use the money for your own purposes. 
How do you plead in this matter ? Guilty or not guilty ? 

Allston. Not guilty. {Retjirtis to position beside Conn.) 

Judge {reading from a paper). Are the following persons pres- 
ent? Dora Allston, Eleanor Allston. Barbara Vane, Daniel Vane, 
Lorenzo Peacock, Arthur Langdon, Suzette-er-er-Ek-you-er. 

SuzETTE. Ecuer. {Pronouncing it properly.) 

Judge. Never mind about the initials. Philip Broughton. {A 
paitse.) Philip Broughton not here ? 

Elliot. He went away unexpectedly before he knew that your 
honor would require his presence. 

Judge. Humph ! Be good enough to hold up your right hands 
{mumbling customary oath, ending with) so help you, God. Mr. 
Langdon, will you take the stand ? {Indicating witness-box. 
Langdon crosses, and takes his place as witness.) Did you, on 
the afternoon of the thirteenth, make a payment to John Allston 
for the purchase of property belonging to his ward? 

Langdon. I did, sir. 

Judge. What was tlie form of tliis payment ? 

Langdon. It was in bills to the amount of — 

Elliot, {interrupting). Excuse me, your honor, we admit 
payment of the money. 

Judge. Very well. You may stand down, Mr. Langdon. 
(Langdon takes a chair near witness-stand, slightly beJiind, and 
to the right of it.) Mrs. Allston, will yoft be kind enough to take 
the stand? (Mrs. A., standing beside her husband, quickly raises 
his hand to her lips, then, after a glance at him, fakes her 
position in the zuitness-stand.) Mrs. Allston, do you know whether 
or not your husband was in the house at ten o'clock on the 
night of the thirteenth ? 

Mrs. a. {speaking hurriedly). He went out just before ten, but 
it was to look for Dr. Peacock. The doctor had disappeared, and 
his wife was alarmed about it, and — 

Judge {interruptitig). Never mind about that. 

Dr. p. {springing from his chair). But why don't you mind 
about that? Tliat's the truth. I can explain. 

Judge {sarcastically). Excuse me, sir, but may I ask whom 
you represent here ? 



34 i^HE TRUStEg. 

Dr. p. I represent a man called common-sense. Do you know 
him? 

Judge. I know a man called uncommon lack of sense, Dr. 
Peacock. 

Dr. p. It's a wise man that knows himself. I congratulate 
you, Judge Pettibone. 

Judge. If you make any more disturbance, I shall be obliged 
to have you ejected from the courtroom, sir. {To Mrs. A.) So, 
Mrs. Allston, your husband was not in the house at ten o'clock on 
the night of the thirteenth ? 

Mrs. a. He was not. 

Judge. Tiiat is all for the present, madam. (.Mrs. Allston 
resiones her former position.') Soo-zette Ek-you-er, take the stand. 

SuzETTE {^on her luay to witness-stafid). Ecuer, monsieur. 

Judge. I don't care whether it's A Q A or X Y Z. You 
are a domestic in Mr. Allston's house, are you not .■" 

SuzETTE. I am, sare. 

Judge. Do you know where Mr. Allston's overcoat — the one 
trimmed with fur — is usually left by him when he is in the house .-• 

SuzETTE. He leaves eet on ze ar-rm of a seat zat ees een ze 
front hall. 

Judge. Were you in the house at ten o'clock night before last ? 

SuzETTE. Yes, sare. I was in ze house. 

Judge. Did you happen to notice whether the overcoat was in 
the usual place at tliat time ? 

SuzETTE At ten o'clock it was not zere, but it was zere at after 
ten a few minutes. 

Judge {to Elliot). You have the witness, Mr. Elliot. 

Elliot. How do you know it was ten o'clock? 

SuzETTE. It ees always at ten o'clock zat I turn down ze light 
in ze front hall. 

Elliot. How did it happen that you returned to the hall 
shortly after ten, when you say you saw the coat ? 

SuzETTE. I took up-stairs ze sack of Miss Vane, and on my 
way down again I saw ze overcoat was zere. 

Elliot. That will do. (Suzette resmnes her seat.) 

Judge. Mr. Vane, if you please. (Miss Allston leads Vane 
to witness-stand, then returns.) You were in Mr. Allston's office 
on the night of the thirteenth — day before yesterday — at ten 
o'clock, Mr. Vane ? 

Vane. I was. 

Judge. Please describe what took place. 

Vane. I was seated in my chair ; was suddenly seized from 
behind, gagged by one person, while I was held by another, then 
bound in my chair. 

Judge. Ahem ! Then there were two persons. 

Vane. As nearly as I can tell, there were. 

Judge. This may account, Mr. Elliot, for the unexpected dhsQUCt 
of Mr. Philip Broughton. 



THE TRUSTEE. 35 

Dr. p. {jumping front his chair). Oh, you make me tired ! 

Judge {j'cipping on his table). Silence, silence ! 

Dr. p. {excitedly) . But I can explain it all. 

Judge. Be good enough to resume your seat, and keep still. 

Dr. p. But I know all about it, 1 tell you. If you'll only listen 
to my story, I'll — 

Judge {interrupting). Not now. At the proper time you shall 
be given an opportunity to unfold your tale. Dr. Peacock. (Dr. 
Peacock resumes his seat in high dudgeon.) Now, Mr. Vane, 
continue. 

Vane. I have told you all. 

Judge. But, during the incident you have described, you may 
have noticed something? 

Vane. You forget that I am blind. 

Judge. Did you hear nothing, then ? 

Vane. Nothing more tlian the sound caused by opening the safe. 

Judge. Did you not hear a footstep that you recognized ? 

Vane. 1 heard no footsteps at all. 

Judge. Did you touch or feel anything that seemed familiar? 

Vane. I refuse to answer. 

Judge. You must answer. 

Vane {witli reluctance). I felt the coat-sleeve of one of the men. 

Judge. Well, what was there about it, that you noticed? 

Vane. It was trimmed with fur. 

Judge. Did it seem familiar — like a coat you had felt before ? 
(Vane hesitates.) Well, I am waiting for your answer. 

Vane. It did. 

Judge. Like what coat that you had felt before? (Vane 
hesitates.) Come ! 

Vane. John Allston's. 

Judge. What happened after this ? 

Vane. Philip Broughton came in and released me, and then 
went for help. 

Judge. And what became of the cloth or handkerchief with 
which you were gagged? Do you know? 

Vane. I put it in ,my pocket. 

Judge. Where is it now ? 

Vane. In my pocket. 

Judge. Produce it. (V kuk reluctantly produces hafidkerchief. 
Dr. Peacock starts to take it.) Never mind. Dr. Peacock. You 
may sit down again. (TtiCONN.) O'Hara, please hand that hand- 
kerchief to Mrs. Allston. (Conn, does so. Mrs. A. steps forward 
to receive it from him.) Be good enough to examine it, madam. 
{As soon as Mrs. A. receives the handkerchief she glances once 
quickly at it, and stifles a scream.) Well, what can you tell me 
about it? {Mks. A. remain; silent.) You must answer me, madam. 
Do you know whose handkerchief it is? 

Mrs. a. Yes. 

Judge. Well, go on. Whose is it? 



"36 tMe trustee. 

Mvis. h. {breaking down completely). My husband's. (Elliot 
goes to her to reassure her.) 

Judge. That will do, madam. Thank you. {]L\aaoi leads her 
back to her former position.) 

Vane {fiom witness-stand, with vehemence). Hear me. You 
must hear me. It was John Allston's overcoat, but I know it was 
not John Allston. / know it. 

Judge. How do you know that ? . 

Vane. 1 do not know how I know it, but I am sure of it. 

Judge. I am afraid that is hardly evidence, Mr. Vane. 

Elliot (excitedly). All his testimony so far has been his im- 
pressions. Why is this conviction of his not evidence ? 

Judge. Because he can give no reason for it. At least, I 
suppose he cannot. Mr. Vane, can you tell me 7L'hy you are so 
sure that the man was not John Allston .'' 

Vane. I cannot. Alas ! I cannot. ( These words to be spoken 
in a distracted, bewildered, distressed way, as of a mati trying in 
vain to remember.) 

'Ehi.iOT {aside). Poor John ! Poor John ! 

Judge. That is all, Mr. Vane. 

(Vane, stepping downfrotn the witness-stand, trips and staggers a 
few steps forward, and Langdon, who has riscfi from his seat 
near the witness-stand, and is part way across the stage, turns 
and springs to support him, catching him by his outstretched 
hands. Miss Allston, jneanwhile. has hurried to Vane's as- 
sistance, but, being a little later than hAKGDO'ti, passes behind him 
atid Vane to Vane's — and the stage — left.) 

Vane {holding; hard to Langdon's hands, and dragging him 
toward c, cryiiis; out in intense excitement). Who is this man ? 
Help ! Hold him ! These are the hands that gagged me. I 
swear it. 

(Langdon violenth jerks away his right hand fro7n Wa^^e's grasp, 
and raises it to 'strike him, Vane still clinging to his left hand.) 

Mlss a. {thro-vino; her arm across Vane, from her position at 
his left, and facing; "Lk^GYiOV.). Coward! Isn't once enough ? 

\.mGV>o^' {turning toward the left to face the Judge). Will 
your honor convict a gentleman on such evidence as this ? 

(^/Vane's speech, ''■Who is this man:' etc.. Philip ^«^/ Hunt 
enter and walk quietly to Langdon's right side, he. in his excite- 
ment, not noticing t'hem. Hunt stands next Langdon, Philip 
ne.xi Hunt.) 
Hunt (/a/Z/V/.^- Langdon on the shoulder). How long have you 

been a gentleman. Tommy Drake? 

Langdon {recog^nizino him —aside). Hunt ! T!ie game's up. 
Hunt. Ever since you left Sing-Sing a month ago? Eh? 



THE TRUSTEE. 37 

(Marsh <z«^ Svzettk start to steal from the room.) Stop that 
other one, somebody! I need you, Jerry, my boy. 

Conn {collaring Marsh). O'Hara's awake, me darlin'. Do 
you want thegurrul, mister? 

Hunt. No, never mind her now. Let her go. 

{Exit SUZETTE.) 

Judge {who has cotne down). Who is this man ? {Indicating 
Hunt.) 

Philip. This is Mr. Hunt, a celebrated detective from New York. 

Judge. Ah, indeed! 

Dr. p. {with unction). Yes, indeed. Judge Pettibone! 

Judge. And do you think you recognize this gentleman, Mr. 
Hunt? 

Hunt. Well, rather, judge. It was I who had him sent to 
Sing-Sing ten years ago, and he only came out last month. 1 sus- 
pected who he was when Mr. Broughton here described him to me 
as we came down in the train. 

Langdon. Suppose I have served my term,_ what then? There 
is no proof that I had anything to do with this job. 

Vane. Except mine. 

{Enter Mrs. Peacock, imich excited, carrying in her arms the 
bundles of ba7ik-notes .) 

Mrs. p. Where is lie? Let me find him ! O Peacock, Peacock! 

Dr. p. What's the matter now. Rosy? 

Mrs. p. {holding rip the bundles) . What's the matter? Here's 
the money ! That's what's the matter. And I found it in your 
house, Peacock! Thank Heaven, it's not my house. Peacock! 

Hunt. Has this gentleman — Mr. Langdon, I believe — access 
to the house, madam? 

Mrs. p. He has indeed, sir. He is my guest, sir. {Turning 
to Doctor.) And to think, Peacock, that you should try to impli- 
cate a guest by hiding these in the mattress of his bed. 

Hunt. Will you allow me to look at them, madam? {After a 
hasty examination.) I thought so. Queer! {To Langdon.) 
Same old game. Tommy. {Quietly slips handcuffs on to Lang- 
don's wrists.) 

Judge. Is there anything peculiar about the money, Mr. Hunt? 

Hunt. Counterfeit. Tiiat's all. 

Judge. Counterfeit? Bless my soul ! You don't say so ! 

( Takes the packages and goes quickly to his table and sits down, 
and becomes absorbed in examining the bills. Mrs. Peacock, 
after a glance of horror at her husband, follows the Judge.) 

Hunt. Well, Drake, that's the most novel way of circulating 
counterfeit money 1 ever heard of. The idea does you credit, 
Tommy, even if it didn't work. 

Langdon. Yes ; it didn't work. Accidents will happen. 
(Sdeakinp' as JJUNT leacis him off.) Good-by, doctor. Hope 



38 THE TRUSTEE. 

you'll sleep like a baby long as you live. Pleasant dreams Mr. 
Vane. Better luck with you next time. ( /<? Allston.) Delight- 
fully smooth transaction, Mr. AUston, wasn't it ? {.-Is he comes to 
Mrs. p.) Don't change your opinion of your liusbanci, Mrs. Pea- 
cock. He's bad — bad as they make "em. (7£» JiiGi-..) Judge, 
better be careful of that mind of yours, — so alert, jtu know, — 
may get away. 

{Exeunt Hunt and Langdon, Conn ajid Mai .'■i;. Allston and 
Mrs. Allston come down, his ami aroiitid J.o .) 

Elliot {shaking hands with Allston). John, old friend, the 
sky is clear again. 

Allston {looking at his wife). Yes, tliank God. 

Vane {shaking Allston's hand.) Joliii, its a warm hand and an 
honest hand. 

Dr. p. {who has been wiping his eyes with his Jiandkcrchief, 
stopping suddenly with handke7-chief )teld before Juni.) Damn it ! 
There it is again. Now what the devil did I tie that knot for? 
Nothing I guess. Now wait. I'm going too fast. {'J a king a letter 
from his pocket.) Now I know. {7 o Ai^uio^ ) AlL^ion, I got 
this letter for you at the pcst-office, day before y(t?U iday morning. 
Tied this knot to remind me to give it to you. Great tilings, these 
knots. Should probably have forgotten — 

Allston {who has opened letter). What's tliis ! '• Rumor about 
the mine all a mistake! Doing Letter than ever."' Dora darling, 
there's not a cloud left. 

Mrs. a. And there will never be another, Joh.n c'ear, as long as 
we live. 

Philip ( beside Barbara). Barbara ! Have ycu got my ring ? 

Barbara {holding up her left hand with the ring on). Yes, 
dear. Here it is. {They embrace.) 

("Vane is walking slowlv towards the door, leaning on Miss 
Allston's artn. They pause, when Y.\A.\(^-\ speaks.) 

Elliot {turning toivard Judge) . Your honor ? 

Judge {still en's^rossed in the bills) . H m-m-in . 

Elliot. How about the prisoner ? Is he released ? 

Judge. "What's that, what's that? The prisoner? Bless my 
soul ! Ahem ! {Resuming Judicial manner.) In view of the remark- 
able facts which I have so recently discovered — 

Dr. p. Now wait. You're rro'ng too fast. 

Judge. "Why so, Dr. Peacock? 

Dr. p. {with great pride). I discovered those facts. You 
never discovered anvthiuL^ that / ever heard of 

Judge. Ahem! 'in view of the facts so recently discovered, I 
shall dismiss the case. The prisoner is discharged, and the prop- 
erty reverts to The Trustee. 

CURTAIN. 



MISS TIFFANY'S LATEST AND BEST. 



A n Autograph Letter. 

A Comedy-Drama in Three Acts. 

By ESTHER B. TIFFANY. 

Author of "A Rice Pudding," "Anita's Trial," "The Way to Hi« 
Pocket," and other favorite pieces. 

Five male and five female characters. Scenes, two interiors; costumes, 

modern and simple. Sparkling in dialogue, strong in 

interest, graceful in idea. 



SYNOPSIS. 



ACT I. Staunton's lodgings. Port-wine and poverty. Love's young di .'am. A voice 
from the tomb. "Why do you haunt me?" A ruined life. Thb Autograph 
Letter. " I'll destroy it this very day." Troubles thicken. The grasp of poverty. 
An idea. " Give me one hour and you shall have your money." The key of the 
secretary. The seed of sorrow. 

ACT IL John Master's home. The temperance question. Two sides of an old maid. 
"Aunt Libby, you're a jewel." Reading the newspaper. "Black satin's in 
fashion." The bitter past. A story of a wasted life. The unanswered letter. An 
angel's visit. The letter answered after twenty years. The ring and iis 
motto. " To love is to trust." The harvest of happiness. 

ACT in. At Staunton's again. Locking the stable door. White lies and ivhits 
lilacs. A confession. " T/ie leiier never reached jfokn Master's haiids.'" For 
love's sake. ^^ He jtiust be told.'" A daughter's happiness. "She will marry the 
man she loves, but for you." A sacrifice and a promise. Face to face. " I came 
to fling his treachery in his face, but it is the face of a dead man." False to the 
last. " For her sake, not yours, I lied," A noble foe. Young love and old. Ex- 
plained at last. " I am no man's wife." The Garnering of the Grain. 



THE WAY TO HIS POCKET. 

Price, . . . . . 15 cents. 

A comedv in one act, for two male and three female characters. Scene, an interior, 

sostumes modern. All its requirements are simple to the last degree, and offer no diffi- 
tulties. This liit'e play is in Miss Tiffany's best vein, and admirably continues the series 
of parlor pieces, refined in humor and clever in plan, of which she is the author. Piays 
about an hour. 



By the Author of " Placer Gold. 



Bound bv mm Ot^th. 

A DRAMA IN PROLOGUE AND FOUR ACTS. 

By DAVID HILL. 

Author of " Forced to thb War," " Out of his Sphbrb," 
"Placer Gold," "The Granger," Etc. 

Six male and four female characters. Scenery, not simple, but easily simplified ; 
costumes, modern. This is a strong and stirring melodrama of modem life and times. 
The comedy element is furnished by a negro and a quaint old woman's part. Elias, the 
" oath-bound," is a strong part ; Seth is a good light comedy villain, and Jacob a strong 
** heavy " part. 

Price, S5 cents. 

PROLOGUE. The storm. Robbery and murder. Bound by an oath: "As God is 
my witness, I will keep this secret until my dying day." Tableau. 

Lapse of five years behueen Prologue atid First Act. 

\CT I. Scene i. Johnson's house. Surrounded by wealth. Sambo in trouble. 
P.tU'.rnof Seth Randolph. A murder prevented by a mirror. Drucilla's courage. 
".liiUs." Seth runs the establishment, St:enb 2. Interview between Sambo and 
Luv"\ . " Hev you got the valerian cremens, or are you clean gone cra/.y?" Scene 
3. 1 K'. blind miller and his family. Jacob Johnson again. His demand for the 
hand c{ Mabel. The refusal. Jacob's threat. Edward and Mabel. Elias the oath- 
Aound. Face to face. " For God's sake, who are you ?" "Elias Amsden, the lad 
ye bound by an oath." 

ACT II. i^Ci'.NE I. Interior of mill. Elias and Edward. The hiddeij money. Elias 
ajid hissecet. "O, money! money 1 you are the bane of ray life; but I worship 
youasagoci. Scene 2. Sambo and Lucy again. " Lor a mighty ! who crushed de 
tea set? W 110 broke down de box.' Who de — " A ludicrous scene. Scene 3. 
Jacob and Dvucilla. The wolf and the lamb. M-ibel pleads for her parents. 
Jacob's demii.d. Seth interferes. Edward and EUas pay Raymond's notes. 
Jacob's discovsiy. " Every dollar of that money is a base counterfeit." Deeper in 
the toils than ever. Seth Randolph's remorse. Elias driven to despair. " O, I be 
doomed — doomed." 

ACT III. Scene i. Two rogues well met. Plan to secure Mabel. Seth refuses to 
act. Face to face with Elias. His curse. Jacob's villainy. A diabolical plot. 
Scene 2. Turned into the streets. Phillip's trust in the Lord. " He will guide us 
through the vvilderntss like as he did the Israelites of old, if we are not afetred to 
trust him." Discoveiy by Lucy. A fiiend in need. " Now you just follow me and 
ffl take you home in half a jiffy-" Scene 3. Mabel and the letter. The hound 
still upon the track. Mother and daughter. "Then, though I crush my heart in 
doing it, I will marry Jiicob Johnson." Scene 4. Jacob starts to burn the mill. 
Scene 5. Interior of mill. Edward in hiding. Elias contemplates suicide in order 
to reveal the oath. Seth and Jacob. The check. The druggL-d wine. Seth out- 
witted. " O, I am lost ! lost! " Jacob fires the mill. Storm, flames and smoke. 
Seth recovers. Locked in. To the rescue of Elias. Edward beneath the trap. 
A double rescue. Seth Randolph saved, but dying. "Let — let me speak! Ja — 
—Jacob — O, God! — he — Jacob — he done this — he — " 

ACT IV. Scene r. Mabel and Lucy. Phillip's anxiety. Off to the rescue. "Lead 
the way, Betty, and I'll follow vou with the strength of a giant." Scene 2. Con- 
fession and cleath of Setl) Rai.dolph. " Place me where the birds can sing over me, 
and where streaks of sunshine can reach my grave." Scene 3. Drucilla and Jacob. 
The dove in the eagle's claw. E'ias to the rescue. Phillip, Mrs. Ravmond and 
Lucy. Elias attempts suicide. Ti-iiely arriv?.l of Edward. "Kill the fatted calf, 
the jirodigal has returned." Jacob in the toils. Return of the money, A happv 
termination. 



GEORGE M. BAKER'S PLAio. 

Price 15 cents, unless otherwise stated. 



ABOVE THE CLOUDS. Drama in two 

acts. 7 males, 4 females. 
AMONG THE BREAKERS. Drama in 

two acts. 6 males, 4 females. 
BETTER THAN GOLD. Drama in four 

acts. 5 males, 4 females. 25 CentS. 

BON-BONS. Musical entertainment. 3 males, 

I female. 25 CentS. 

BOSTON DIP, THE. Comedietta in one 

act. 4 males, 3 females. 

BREAD ON THE WATERS. Drama in 
two acts. 5 males, 3 females. 

CAPULETTA. Burlesque in two parts. 3 
males, i female. 

CHAMPION OF HER SEX, THE. Farce 
in one act. 8 females. 

CHRISTMAS CAROL, A. Christmas en- 
tertainment from Dickens. Many char. 

CLOSE SHAVE, A. Farce in one act. 6 
males. 

COALS OF FIRE. Farce in one act. 6 
males. 

COMRADES, Drama in three acts. 4 males, 

3 females. 25 CentS. 
DOWN BY THE SEA. Drama in two 

acts. 6 males, 3 females. 
BROP TOO MUCH, A. Farce in one act. 

4 males, 2 females. 

DUCHESS OF DUBLIN, THE. Farce in 

one act. 6 males, 4 females. 
ENLISTED FOR THE WAR. Drama in 

three acts. 7 males, 3 females. 

FAIRY OF THE FOUNTAIN, THE. 

Play for children in two acts. 10 char. 25c. 
FLOWER OF . THE FAMILY, THE. 

Comedy-drama in three acts. 5 males, 3 fern. 
FLOWING BOWL, THE. Drama in three 

acts. 7 males, 3 females. 25 CeutS. 

FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. Farce in 

one act. 8 males. 
GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY. Farce 

in one act. 12 males. 
GREAT ELIXIR, THE. Farce in on' act. 

g males. 

GREATEST PLAGUE IN LIFE, THE. 

Farce in one act. 8 females. 
GRECIAN BEND, THE. Farce in one 
act. 7 females. 

HUMORS OF THE STRIKE, THE. 

Farce in one act. 8 males. 
HYPOCHONDRIAC, THE. Farce in one 

act. 5 males. 
LAST LOAF, THE. Drama in two acts. 

5 males, 3 females. 

LIGHTHEART'S PILGRIMAGE. Alle- 

gory for schools. 8 females and chorus. 
LITTLE BROWN JUG, THE. D>ama in 

three acts. 5 males, 3 females. 
LITTLE MORE CIDER, A. Farce in one 

act. 5 males, 3 females. 
LOVE OF A BONNET, A. Farce in one 

act. 5 females. 

MAN WITH THE DEMIJOHN, THE. 

tarce in nne act. 4 males. 

MY BROTHER'S KEEPER. Drama in 

three acts. 5 males, 3 females. 

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE, A. 

Farce in one act. 4 males. 
MY UNCLE THE CAPTAIN. Farce in 

one act. 6 males. 
NEVER SAY DIE, Farce in one act. 3 

males, 3 females. 
JTEVADA. Drama in three acts. 8 males, 3 

females. 25 cents. 



NEW BBOOM SWEEPS CLEAN, A. 

t arce in one act. 6 males. 
NO CURE, NO PAY. Farce in one act. 1 

females. 
ONCE ON A TIME. Drama in two incts. 

4 males, 2 females. 

ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. Drama 

in two acts. 8 males, 3 females. 
ORIGINAL IDEA, AN. Dialogue for a 

Lady and gentleman. 
OUR FOLKS. Drama in three acts. 6 males, 

5 females. 

PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE. Farce 

in one act. 7 males, 3 females. 
PAST REDEMPTION. Drama in four 

acts. 9 males, 4 females. 25 CeutS. 

PEDLAR OF VERYNICE, THE. Bur- 

lesque. 7 males. 
PRECIOUS PICKLE, A. Farce in one 

act. 6 females. 
PUBLIC BENEFACTOR, A. Farce in 

one act. 6 males. 
REBECCA'S TRIUMPH. Drama in three 

•acts. 16 females. 25 CentS. 

RED CHIGNON, THE. Farce in one act. 

6 females. 

REVOLT OF THE BEES, THE. Mu- 

sical alletzory. 9 females. 
RUNAWAYS, THE. Farce in one act. 4 

males. 
SANTA CLAUS' FROLICS. Christmas- 

tree entertainment. Many char. 

SCULPTOR'S TRIUMPH, THE. Alle- 

gory. I male. 4 females. 
SEA OF TROUBLES, A. Farce in one 
act. 8 males. 

SEEING THE ELEPHANT. Temper- 

aace farce. 5 males, 2 females. 
SEVEN AGES, THE. Tableau entertain- 
ment 7 males, 4 females. 

SHALL OUR MOTHERS VOTE? Hu- 

morous debate for 11 boys. 
SNOW BOUND. Musical and dramatic en- 
tertainment. 3 males, i fomale. 25 C6nt8. 
STAND BY THE FLAG. Drama in one 

act. 5 males. 
SILVIA'S SOLDIER. Drama in two acts. 

3 males, 2 females. 
TEMPTER, THE. Drama in one act. 3 

males, i female. 
TENDER ATTACHMENT, A. Farce ia 

one act. 7 males. 
THIEF OF TIME, THE. Farce in one 

act. 6 males. 

THIRTY MINUTES FOR REFRESH- 

ments. Farce in one act. 4 males, 3 fem. 
THORN AMONG THE ROSES, A. Com. 

edy in one act. 2 males, 8 females. 
TITANIA. Play for children in two acts. 

Many char. 25 ceUtS. 

TOO LATE FOR THE TRAIN. Dialogue 

for 2 males, introducing songs and recitations. 
TOURNAMENT OF IDYLWENT, THE. 

.'V'legory for 13 females. 

VISIONS OF FREEDOM. Allegory for 

16 females. 
USING THE WEED. Farce in one act. 

7 females. 

WANTED, A MALE COOK. Farce in 

one act. 4 males. 
WAR OF TFE ROSES. Allegory for 8 

females. 
WE'RE ALL TEETOTALERS. Farce (n 

one scene. 4 males, 2 females. 



WALTER H. BAKER, & CO.^ 



Boston, Mas& 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

ILIIJJIiiLUIIllUlll.^, 

016 102 478 8 #1 



Something New, Funny £ 

Prof. BAXTER 

Great Invention, 

OR 

OLD nifllDS niflDB NEW. 

A COMEDY-FARCE IN ONE ACT. 

By MARY B. HORNE, 

Author of " IHp. Peak Sistbrs," " Thk Carnival of Days," "The Book 
OF Drills, Parts 1 and II," Etc. 

For three male and three female characters. Moilern every-<lay costuuies. 
Scenery of the very simplest charaoter. Plays ahoiit an hour, or longer, 
according to specialties, sonj»s, etc., iutrMiluced. 'i'liiseiitertaiiiinent is a deculed 
novelty and is excruciatingly fnnny. I'"iist-rate Irish soubrette part, and capital 
comic old man. I'rof. Haxter's paiiui jirocess for making old people, young 
again suits everylwdy, both on the .'^Lag'- and olT, 

Price, - . . . 15 cents. 

SCENE.— Dr. Baxter's Office. Mary Ann and the Professor, A scientific break- 
fjist. Patiejits. A sweet young thing of fifty. Mary Ann romances. The 
old dude. More patients. A back n umber. Getting ready for the operation. 
Roxanna and the Doctor. Greek meets Greek. Electro-motive force ws.'A' 
female tongue. The " gossiineres," The current iJegins to Avork. Woolley 
has a very strange feeling. Chargeil with electricity. " I never charge, but 
take cash down." Filling the cabinets. A little backward iii coming forward. 
Dorothy's shyness. " What, get in there wiih two men ! " Mary Ann sacri- 
ficed to propriety. Koxanna and the Doctor again. Getting the mitten. 
" Vou press the button, and I'll do the rest." The current full <m. Groans 
of the wotmded. Aftej^the battle. Old maids and old dudes made neAV. 
Roxaniia's work undone. "It's a deep laid plot!" Celebrating the event. 
*' The dude who couldn't dance." INlary Ann and " Thelrish Jubilee." ' It is 
in the air and Koxanna catches it. A terrible «ata.strrtphe. The de.if old 
gentlemen geta overdone. The Professor adopts the old infant. Marrying 
and giving in marriage. The "invention" pronoimced a grai-; 



Walter H. Baker & Co., 23 Winter St.. Boston. 



J. PARKHILL « CO.. PK> 



